Like Two Doomed Ships That Pass In Storm
by AdamsQueen
Summary: Spoilers for Season 6.  Brennan and Booth are faced with the consequences of Booth's inability to move on after they return. There is a price to pay, and time is not of the essence.
1. Calm Waters are Deceitful

**A/N. This story contains some spoilers for season 6, and the rest is pure speculation and my imagination. Warning to any readers looking for fluff, you will not find it until much later. Angst is what I do well, and where I believe B&B are at right now in the season. Please also note that the events of this story are not necessarily in order, but there is a very good reason for that.**

Dedication: This story is dedicated to my wonderful loving husband, and some fantastic people at The Aby.

A huge thank you to joybrennan, my pricless beta.

Bones does not belong to me. If it did, I would not allow even the hint of an SO in season 6.

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The Medico Legal Lab was, as usual, a flurry of activity. Booth leaned on the barrier of the observation deck, watching the Squints go about their respectful tasks methodically. Like many times in the past, he felt out of place. He still felt part of the team, an amazing, competent team, led by himself and…her. He couldn't 'bring himself to think about her, about the guilt which clouded all thoughts associated with her; guilt which was eating away at him bit by bit. The feeling wasn't at all helped by the way the Squints, especially Angela, were behaving around him now distant, to the point, and nothing more. Cam seemed sympathetic, but disappointed, and his partner, well, she was dealing with things by keeping anything on a personal level from him. What more could he expect from her? He shouldn't expect anything. Not now. Not anymore.

As if on cue, his partner was striding onto the forensic platform. He noticed her slight wince as she lifted her hand to swipe her ID, and felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach. The images, so fresh in his mind came back to him in full force. The words, the gun, the betrayal, the blood, her bright red blood, everywhere, on his hands, on his shirt, on the floor, soaking through her soft sky blue shirt, her hair sprawled around her head on the floor, and the guilt. He couldn't bring himself to even look at her for a whole week after it happened.

"Seeley?" He turned to see that Cam had joined him, his thoughts having prevented him from noticing that she had stepped off the forensic platform.

He sighed, "Camille".

"Don't call me Camille." She admonished with a smile.

"Don't call me Seeley", he replied flatly. He wasn't in the mood today. Even if the banter felt familiar in all of this confusion, he was too busy brooding, and wanted to be left alone, thank you very much.

Cam sighed, and watched him carefully for a moment, following his line of sight. Of course his eyes were glued to Dr Brennan, who was currently issuing instructions to intern of the week, Mr Nigel-Murray. She braced herself for the conversation she was about get into. "This has to stop Booth."

"I don't know what you're talking about Cam." He continued to stare at Brennan.

"You're punishing yourself; wallowing in guilt. It needs to stop." She looked at him directly.

Booth tore his eyes from Brennan, pushed his body off the barrier and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You weren't the one who was betrayed Cam. Someone you… care about wasn't hurt because of something you did. I was stupid, and it almost got my partner killed. I don't even know why she wants to continue our partnership….whatever it is." He turned on his heel and towards the stairs.

"She forgives you Seeley. We all do, Angela too - whether you want to accept it or not."

Booth stopped just as he was about to descend the stairs, only for a moment, then continued on his way. Forgiveness? Forgiveness wasn't going to erase the moment she'd looked into his eyes as the bullets had torn into her body in swift succession. He felt Brennan's eyes on him as he made his way out the Lab. Don't Bones. Please, just…don't.

Cam wasn't going to go after him. Everything was still too raw, too fresh, and she didn't want to push. She sighed. But oh no; she was definitely not going to deny that he had been very stupid, blinded, and even to some extent, childish. From the moment he had arrived from Afghanistan, he had failed to see what was right in front of him. He had been deliberate, cold towards his partner and even to the team at times. He was a new man. The post coma Booth who had confessed love for Brennan and had come to her for advice as to what to do about it, was long gone. He was in a relationship and committed to making it work. He had told them he was in love with Hannah. He hadn't noticed that his partner had unselfishly tried to be happy for him, and tried to do all she could to not get in the way of his new relationship.

Cam had known it was all a façade. Brennan had struggled with her conflicted emotions from their first case back. She'd seen the hurt flash across the anthropologist's face at Booth's curt remarks, and direct answers. The team had observed a shift in the dynamic. Booth and Brennan had hardly bickered, and Booth didn't stop by the Lab to annoy them unnecessarily. She'd wanted to kick him, shake him, and do whatever it took to knock some sense into him. Hadn't she told him, he had to be sure, or Brennan would die of loneliness before she trusted another man again? From what she had heard, from what Angela had managed to drag out of Brennan, Booth hadn't been sure, and Brennan had not been ready. She'd watched as they'd clutched one another's hands at the airport, and wondered why they thought running from each other was the best option for them. Then again, she'd naively believed absence would make the heart grow fonder, and they'd both get their act together and put everyone out of their misery upon their return.

Perhaps it was the fact that first Michelle, and then Paul had come into her life. She wanted everyone she cared about to be happy like she was. She'd fooled herself into thinking it would work out for Booth and Brennan too. How stupid she had been. She was a scientist for goodness sake, not a goddamned idealist! That was Angela. Booth had come back having fallen in love in a war zone, of all places. That 'love', had shown up in DC during their second case back. They should have noticed the cracks then. But everyone was too….surprised at the time.

She did feel sympathy for the man though. The betrayal wasn't the kind which would sting for a while, then eventually go away. She could see that it was like a knife in his chest, especially when he looked at Brennan. Cam watched as Brennan's gaze followed Booth as he made his way out of the lab. She watched as the other woman's face paled and her shoulders hunched. She wanted to lock them in a room and order them to sort it out, for everyone's sanity. If only things were so simple.

Brennan watched as Booth walked out of the glass doors. He hadn't said a word to her when he'd come in this morning, and had chosen to retreat upstairs instead. Did he really not want to see her? Did he want to sever their partnership? She'd never been any good at reading people, but she had thought she knew how to read Booth, at least most of the time. But since she'd been released from the hospital, he'd avoided her unless absolutely necessary. When they were together, he retained a stoic demeanor she couldn't read, and spoke to her in brief statements only relating to their case. She felt useless. He'd always known how to help her, what to say, how to get through her defenses. She didn't know how to help him. Not when he was shutting her out. Then it occurred to her. In an instant, Brennan had snapped off her gloves and walked as fast as she could after Booth. If she tried hard enough, she'd catch up to him before he drove away.

Once she'd made it outside, she saw him opening the door to the car. "Booth!"

Booth didn't turn around. God was punishing him. He was sure. All he wanted to do right now was to not have to look at her. He wanted to be as far away from her as possible. He felt her hand on his shoulder. God was definitely punishing him today. He made a mental note to visit the confessional as soon as possible, maybe the man upstairs might relent once in a while. When he felt her squeeze his shoulder, he turned around and his heart fell into stomach. He regretted his thoughts instantly, and was flooded with memories of the last time he had walked away from her after she'd been pleading with him to listen to her: he'd continued walking and ploughed straight into their impending doom.

Once she'd managed to convince him to turn around and look at her, everything she wanted to say seemed to have stuck to her throat. His eyes were dark, and his rigid posture and reaction to her hand on his shoulder indicated that he wasn't going to put his guard down. The chilly wind swept stray locks of hair onto her face, and without thinking she flicked them away with her hand, and winced as the pain hit her side.

"Bones?" He immediately stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders to steady her as she tried, in vain, to mask the pain. He wanted the ground to swallow him whole. She did not deserve this.

Brennan gritted her teeth, and fought against the pain, as Booth studied her face.

"I'm fine Booth. It's ok. I temporarily forgot that any sudden movements would cause…discomfort." She was going to say pain, but Booth didn't need to be burdened with that right now. This wasn't about her pain. She could handle it, if she wasn't so stupid in future and remembered the things that one with injuries such as hers wasn't supposed to do. No, Booth's pain was something she'd experienced herself, and never been able to move on from, not really - the pain of betrayal.

"Booth. I'm waiting for Angela to finish the victim's facial reconstruction. Do you want to have coffee….with me?" What if he didn't ? What would she do then?

He shoved his hands in his pockets and his fingers came into contact with old poker chip. Did he want to go have coffee with her? Did he want to look at her face? The same face which had masked her hurt and internal struggles – to his satisfaction- as he'd revealed that he was in love with Hannah? Yes he admits, he enjoyed twisting the knife of jealousy and showing Bones that had she agreed to give them a chance, she would have been in Han- that psychopath's place. He bit back a laugh. Bones and that woman had no place in the same train of thought. Bones would give her life before betraying him; he didn't doubt that for a second...now. But he'd been blinded by his broken heart back then. He'd wanted to fill the void left by her rejection. Her rejection. "No Seeley", he thought, "you were so convinced, so mad she didn't love you that you didn't really hear what she was saying. But you realised eventually, and then she almost died."

"Booth?"

He looked at Bones and saw the vulnerability in her face. Right, she was waiting for an answer.

"You know Bones; I've got…a lot of paperwork just begging for my attention back at the office. I don't think-"

"Booth please?"

His eyes darkened. She'd said the wrong thing. Why couldn't she ever get it right? Stupid!

Booth please? He would never forget those words. Never forget the way he'd wrenched his hand from hers as she'd been trying to talk to him.

"I'm…I'm trying my best here Booth. You of all people know that I'm terrible at this. Please, I …need you to help me. I can't do anything to ease you of this burden if you don't let me help you. Please...just...talk to me."

Now he was getting angry. She couldn't possibly understand what he was feeling.

"You're right. You're not good at this. I don't need your help Bones. I'm fine."

Her eyes betrayed her hurt before her brain could stop them, and she felt the moisture accumulate. She had to get a hold of herself. What was wrong with her? She was supposed to be trying to help him, and here she was threatening to fall apart

"I know you're trying to push me away by attempting to hurt my feelings Booth." She stepped closer, and they both felt their heart rate increase. "But I won't let you push me away."

He steeled himself and stepped back. "I need to go. Call me when Angela's finished." He turned away from her and unlocked the door. He was the world's biggest loser. Hadn't he learned his lesson already?

Brennan didn't think there was anything more she could say. She stepped back, and looked at her twisting hands. She knew he wasn't going back to his office. She wanted to give him as much space as he needed, but she had been scared and worried. She was startled out of her thoughts by his hand gently stilling hers.

"Bones, I just need some space right now, ok? And some time. Just...don't worry about me. I just need to sort this out...on my own. Just...give me some time. Can you do that?" Or maybe she could just give up on him like he'd given up on her. Or, even better, she could just hit him and demand to know what right in hell he had to ask her for some time, when it was the one thing she'd needed, and he'd denied it because of his selective understanding.

Time? He wanted time. Alright. She'd let him have time. But not forever. She wasn't going to let him self-destruct and drown in his guilt and self-loathing. "Ok."

He was relieved to be off the hook and free to hate himself. He forced a smile and had to stop himself from practically wrenching open the door and diving into the truck.

"Be careful."

"Yeah." Please stop talking, he thought. She needed to stop before he turned around and crushed her in his arms and told her again and again how sorry he was, and that it would never ever happen again, that the world would end before he'd give up on her, That she didn't need to change, and he knew, oh how he knew, how full and open her heart was. That she had loved him without condition, without ultimatum. That she was worthy, very, very worthy of being loved.

He turned the ignition and watched as she walked slowly back to the building before pulling out. He saw her, in his rear view mirror, turn to look at him drive away, before making her way inside.

The woman who'd once told him she was jealous of him, and all their friends because of their ability to lose themselves in love had surpassed them all.

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_Like two doomed ships that pass in storm, we had crossed each other's way: but we made no sign, we said no word, we had no word to say._ Oscar Wilde.

Reviews are lovely.


	2. I Sense Thunder

**A/N. Thank you for the fabulous reviews! Keep them coming, I love them. This chapter was very theraputic to write. Hope you enjoy it. Remember, the events of this story are not in order, but stay tuned, and all will become clear.  
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**Thank you to joybrennan, my fabulous beta. **

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He was sitting in Bones' office waiting impatiently for her to emerge from bone storage and sign the documents he'd brought her, in order to wrap up the paperwork on the case. Even though they'd started this new ritual since returning from their time away, it felt strange. Gone were late nights when they'd hole up at one of their places with Thai and finish their paper work while fighting over Mee Krob. No. He chastised himself. There's no point dwelling on what they were in the past. He was supposed to be moving on. Wasn't it his inability to shake his non-relationship with Bones, the reason he'd ended things with Hannah? Yes, he was happy to blame it all on that, happy to carefully gloss over the cracks which had started appearing very early on in his new relationship. Nope, it felt savagely better to blame it on himself and his partner, because he'd tried. God how he'd tried to move on, to get her out his head, to not think about what she was doing, or whether she was alone while he was busy being happy with Hannah. He'd tried to tell himself that he'd wanted to give them a shot, she had declined, and therefore, he didn't need to feel guilty about being happy and content while she was alone.

As he waited for Bones in her office, surrounded by her scent, and her couch, and her things, he wondered if he'd ever be able to move on. The nasty little voice inside his head asked him, Oh, but did you really try Seeley? Was it what you wanted at the time? If you loved her, you would have tried harder. Maybe you didn't love her at all. Maybe you were in love with the idea of forever, and she happened to be convenient. He pushed the uncomfortable feelings back into their dark corner in his mind, and began pacing. He could just leave the paperwork for her to sign and she could drop them by later. No. That wouldn't do. He'd have to see her again, and being around her more than absolutely necessary was not the best idea if he was going to move forward with his life.

So things hadn't worked out with Hannah, that didn't mean there wasn't someone else out there who he could find his thirty, forty, fifty years with. Hannah had brought hope and happiness into his life in a place of desperation and destruction. Things hadn't ended too badly. She'd been upset, but she'd understood that he couldn't give her everything she deserved because his past was holding him back; his feelings for Bones, his deeply hidden regrets about what had happened outside the Hoover.

He wanted to hate her. He was Sergeant Major and sniper trained FBI Special Agent Seeley Joseph Booth. He'd killed people, he'd served in war, he'd been tortured, he'd been shot. He was a strong and honorable man. Yet, one woman had the ability to make him feel weak. He wanted to be mad with her. But it wasn't all her fault. Maybe he was just mad that he'd wanted so desperately to show her that he could be happy, and it hadn't work out that way. He wanted to rage at her for doubting himself.

"I'm sorry Booth; have you been waiting long?" Brennan took in his agitated appearance as she stepped into her office.

He stopped pacing abruptly, turned to snatch the paperwork from her coffee table and thrust it in her direction. "Yeah, I'm sort of in a hurry here Bones, so if you could just finish these quickly, it'd be great."

She took the files from him and took a seat at her desk. He sat on her couch and stared at the wall in front of him, his left leg jiggling impatiently. She signed the first report and snuck another glance at him. Still agitated. She wondered if he was having relationship problems. He hadn't really shared much with her about his personal life, and she took that as the cue not to ask. But he'd never been this upset. As she worked through the files, she debated whether or not to ask him what the matter was. As she closed the last folder, and stood up from her desk, she'd resolved to ask him. They were after all, still partners.

He stood up and walked towards her, taking back the files.

"I ended things with Hannah." He looked at the papers in his hands.

She had not expected that; had expected anything but that. He had seemed happy. He had found someone to love him, someone worthy of his love; someone who wasn't afraid. Isn't that what he'd wanted?

"Aren't you going to say anything Bones?" Why wasn't she saying anything?

"I'm so sorry Booth. I thought you were both happy. Are you...are you ok?" No, he's not ok. Couldn't she see? She needed to work harder on her inter-personal relations.

He looked at her face then. Her eyes were sincere, but he wasn't having any of that right now. He was going to have this one out with her. Maybe it was low, but right now, he was pissed, and the reason for his misery was standing right in front of him.

"No you're not."

"I'm not what?"

"Sorry."

"What are you talking about Booth? Why would I lie to you?" Brennan was very confused. Why was he angry with her?

He took a step towards her but she stood her ground. He lowered his voice and said, "Isn't some tiny part of you happy Bones; happy that I failed to make it work, to move on?" He watched as her eyes widened in shock.

'No! Is that what you think Booth? That I didn't want you to succeed with your relationship with Hannah?"

Booth had started his pacing again. Had she wanted him to fail? Yes, she'd realised, the moment she'd walked away from him at the airport that she'd made a mistake. Yes, in the darkness of the sweltering nights on the dig, she'd resolved that. She had gained the perspective she'd left for and she no longer wanted to be without him. Yes, she'd concluded that everything she'd felt towards Booth, and everything she'd done over the years, could only be summed up by her own definition of love. Since they'd commenced working together a year after their very first case, she'd struggled, but managed to suppress her growing attraction to her partner. She'd compartmentalised, and buried her feelings so deeply, that when he asked her to take a chance at something more, it had been like a shock to her system. To gamble would mean that there was a chance they would lose everything. She would never forgive herself for physically pushing him away, for hurting him like she did, but she had been so afraid of losing him. She'd been terrified that he'd fallen for the image of her from his coma dream and that the real Temperance Brennan could never live up to that. Over the years, he'd told her of the pure and wonderful love which he craved, but she was anything but pure, she was tainted, by her past, by her insecurities. She would only disappoint him.

Yes, when they'd come home, she had been sad at first, and perhaps envious that Hannah was going to share Booth's life, but he deserved happiness. She wasn't going to stand in his way. She wanted him to have the wonderful life he deserved. She'd missed her opportunity, but she wasn't going to ruin his. She'd made peace with her feelings and told herself that life must go on.

Booth had stopped his pacing.

"Do you want to know the reason we weren't working out Bones?" He asked quietly as he leaned on the back of her couch.

No she didn't, because she was dreading the answer.

"Because I couldn't seem to get you out of my head."

No no no no no no. She needed him to stop right now.

"I've never cheated on anyone before." He stepped towards her again. "Tell me Bones, why did it feel like I was cheating?" She looked stricken. Booth knew he could stop this. Then why wasn't he?

"I tried so damn hard Bones. I wanted to love Hannah, and give her everything she deserved. But I wasn't good enough."

"No Booth! You were good enough. You are good enough."

"Just not for you."

Brennan clenched her fists at her sides, and whispered, "That's not true Booth."

He took another step towards her. "Really? I thought it was very true that night."

Brennan couldn't believe he was doing this. She needed to stop this situation from getting out of hand right here in her office in the middle of the lab.

"Booth, I can tell that you're angry. But I don't think talking about that is going to help. I really do not wish to have this conversation, especially here and now."

"Ok, sure we'll talk about something else. What about the fact that you were upset I was in a relationship with Hannah, jealous even? Why Bones?"

She was fast losing her grip on control. She turned around and tried to breathe evenly. Her stomach was in knots, and her body was thrumming with tension. She wasn't going to rise to the bait. She wasn't. He'd just ended a serious relationship. He was upset and he needed to lash out at someone. She probably deserved it anyway, for what she'd done to him.

"Why were you upset? You had no right to be. Seven months, and not one word from you?"

Something snapped inside her, and she turned to face him.

"Me? Not a word from me? Booth I wrote to you every week! You didn't reply or write to me once. I wrote to our friends, to Parker, and Hank, my father, Russ and my nieces. They all wrote back, but you didn't. Were you that mad with me that you didn't want to even communicate?"

"What? No you didn't. I didn't get one letter, nothing from you Bones!"

"Why would I lie to you? You know I wouldn't do that. Now you've accused me twice of lying to you."

Something just wasn't adding up here, but he didn't care.

"I wrote to you too. When I got to Afghanistan, I wrote to tell you I was ok. When you didn't reply, I just thought you were too busy with your skeletons to bother." He lowered his voice, perhaps it was shame. "After that, I didn't write again."

Brennan could feel her control slipping rapidly. "You thought I didn't care?" Her voice shook with anger, hurt, and fear. "Is that what you think Booth? That I'm taking some sort of malicious pleasure in your failed relationship?"

Was she calling him a failure? He couldn't have that. This was her fault "You didn't seem to care when I told you I loved you that night; when I asked you to give us a chance." He could feel his voice rising, "I told you I knew. I offered you thirty, forty, fifty years, and you pushed it all away because you, of all people Bones, you were a coward. I deserve someone who isn't afraid. I deserve to be happy!"

She could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. A coward. It was true, she was, and that was what she had been trying to tell him in front the Hoover that night; that he deserved better than she could give. However, she didn't agree with everything he'd just said. There had been one glaring exception, and she wasn't going to let him get away with it. She raised her eyes to his for the first time since they'd started this argument.

"You never said you loved me."

The statement hung between them in the silence. His eyes bore into hers, and she saw them flash with, what was it, recognition? However, it was gone within a second.

"What do you think I was saying Bones? I as good as told you. What did you want me to do, get on my knees and beg? Would that have convinced you?"

"No. No you didn't Booth", she yelled. "You told me you were the gambler. You told me you wanted to take a chance. That would mean that there was a chance of losing right? That there was a chance that a relationship between us wouldn't work out, and we'd lose everything, including our friendship." She felt her control slip further, but now that she'd started, she had to make him understand. "Don't you remember what happened the first time we brought up the idea of having a relationship? I hit you, and we didn't talk for a year, and couldn't stand to be in the same room for months when we'd started working together again. So yes I was afraid, terrified of losing the only man I've ever loved, and the only way I could prevent that from happening was to have you as my partner. I didn't want you to just disappear from my life like my family. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm so sorry Booth, but it hurt me too, that you wanted to gamble what we had, that even you had doubts about our chances of lasting -"

She'd touched a nerve. "Doubts? What part of you thirty, forty, fifty years don't you understand Bones?" He was yelling now, but he didn't care. He didn't care that anyone would hear, and he didn't care that regret was slowly starting to creep up on him. He pushed it all back down furiously.

"Thirty, forty, fifty years Booth? I told you I couldn't change. I told you I didn't have an open heart like yours, and you agreed. You said I was right. That it would never work, that you had to move on! I thought I'd made the right decision because you agreed with me, that we couldn't work out. That you needed to be protected from me, my past, my flaws, my inability to feel things."

Booth couldn't believe he was hearing this. What was she saying? He felt blanketed in a haze. When had he agreed to all that? He replayed the night in his mind again. But she wasn't finished. The tears were now well and truly visible in her eyes, and thick in her voice.

You didn't even give me time to process that you wanted to have a romantic relationship with me! With ME! I didn't think it was possible, and it turns out, I was right." She heard him scoff.

"When you woke from your coma, you thought I was the woman from your dream; you were in love with her, with the life you shared with her. You had fallen in love with Bren, not me. You were in love with the forever you saw in your dream." A fat tear had slipped out, and was now rolling down her cheek." It was painful to watch you struggle with whether it was me that you had feelings for or if you needed me to fulfill a dream. And then you tell me that you want to be with me: a scientist and an empiricist? Why would you want to do that? After five years of just being partners, of having your metaphorical line, you suddenly want more from me. I can't process things like you can, you know me. You weren't even sure yourself, and you expected me to take a chance, right then and there"

The tears were now flowing uninhibitedly down her cheeks. Booth just continued to stare at her. In love with a dream? When did Bones become the Queen of psychology, and who did she think she was to tell him what he was feeling?

"Don't tell me what I was thinking, and what I was feeling Bones. You have no idea, alright." She actually did - and he hated that. "You'd rejected me. You pushed me away! I felt like something was breaking inside me. You said you couldn't love me. I had to move on. I had to salvage whatever pride I had left, for my own sanity. You said you knew, you understood."

"Of course I understood Booth!" she yelled. "You regretted what you said because you realised I was right. I wasn't worthy and you deserved better. We're too different, and I'm awful at relationships. It only took me one minute to convince you, didn't it?. Of course I knew you had to move on! I didn't have a choice!"

"You did have a choice!" He yelled back. "You could have told me that you needed time instead of slamming the door in my face!"

"I'm sorry I didn't say those exact words. I'm sorry, I thought you knew me enough to understand that I may have needed some time to process that you were suddenly in love with me."

"I told you I knew from the beginning!"

"That was a lie! Is that what you told Hannah? That you knew right from the beginning?"

His eyes had darkened dangerously. "You're out of line, Bones."

"I asked you for some time at the end of Heather Taffet's trial, Booth. I needed perspective. It was hard for us to be in the same room together without me feeling guilty and pathetic for what happened between us."

"Yeah and running away from the situation for a year was a great idea wasn't it, Bones? It's your specialty isn't it? When things get too hard, you run away."

"We both ran from each other, Booth! We both needed space to re-evaluate our lives. And we did. I came to a lot of conclusions about myself, and you...you fell in love with someone else. You moved on like you said you would." He had, and she had to live with that. He was a man of action after all.

"I had to! Alright! I had to take charge of my life. You told me not to be a hero, and I tried to understand. But Hannah, she wanted me to be myself, she made me feel like I was important, like I was someone again. She showed me that I could be happy, and that I didn't need you for that." He could feel the moisture in his eyes. That last part hadn't sounded so devastating in his head. Hearing it spoken out loud felt awful. She was staring at him as tears continued to silently slide down her face.

He'd said it. She'd known, but she hadn't been prepared for how it would feel to hear him say it. She took a shaky breath.

"I saw that...that you didn't need me in order to be happy, when we all returned. Even though I'd concluded that I needed you for my happiness, I wasn't going to stand in the way, not after I'd pushed you away." She was talking just above a whisper now. "I did regret that I wasn't the one, and that our relationship wouldn't be the same, but I was glad that we could continue to work together, that you could still be part of my life." She swiped at her tears with the back of her hand.

"And I never heard the end of it! From the squints, from Sweets, Pops, even Jared. They were all mad at me. Instead of being happy that I'd found someone, they all kept asking me if they thought I was making a mistake." He was getting worked up again. "Instead of supporting me, they all kept looking at me like I was the world's biggest idiot, like it was a crime to stop pining over a woman who could never love me back!"

"'That's enough!"

Brennan froze as she heard Cam's curt order, but she didn't turn around. Booth had seen her lose control. She didn't need anyone else to see what a mess she had become. The silence felt louder than when they had been shouting. She wondered how much Cam, or anyone else had heard. She saw Booth stiffen and step back from her personal space, as he too turned away from Cam.

Cam walked further into Brennan's office and stood in front of her desk. She was now standing between them. Brennan was standing closer to the door, and Booth was standing near the coffee table with his back turned to both of them. She looked at Brennan's face, and while her eyes were studying the floor, Cam noticed the make-up smudges around them, and the faint tracks left behind by her tears. She felt for both of them, but half the lab had been mulling around Brennan's office since the shouting had started. They were making a scene, and it needed to stop right now.

"I know that there have been some issues lately between the two of you, but this, this is a workplace. I can't have everyone in this lab being distracted by this tense...stalemate slash World War III between the two of you any longer. There is no room for mistakes or disruptions in our line of work. You both know that, especially you, Dr Brennan.

"I know." Brennan sighed. She couldn't hide any longer. Cam was very observant, and would have deduced by now that she had been crying. She met Cam's gaze, "I'm sorry Cam. It was selfish of Booth and I to get carried away without thinking about the effect it would have on other people, and their work. We will try to behave in a more professional manner in the future."

Booth was yet to turn around, let alone say anything. Cam took that to mean he agreed with Dr Brennan, and nodded.

"Apology accepted." She looked at Brennan. "When you're ready Dr Brennan, Mr Fischer wishes to consult with you about Jane Doe 624."

Brennan nodded, as Cam walked out of the office.

They were alone again, with nothing but the weight of the words they'd thrown at one another.

She felt numb, as she thought about the things that had been said_. Coward. I didn't need you to be happy. Pining over a woman who could never love me back._ She felt like she was going to choke.

His head was reeling. _You fell in love with someone else. Did you tell Hannah that you knew right from the beginning? You never said you loved me._

He needed to get away from her and think about everything. He'd heard what had come out of her mouth, but processing all of that, was going to need a strong drink and some solitude. He avoided her gaze as he turned and made a bee-line for the door.

She was faster than he'd anticipated. She stepped in front of him and grabbed his hand. His eyes went immediately to hers.

"Booth, I'm sorry. Don't...don't leave like this. We need to talk about...everything, in a civil manner. Cam's right. This, whatever it is that's going on between us, needs to stop. It doesn't just affect us, it affects everyone. "

Right now, he didn't care about anyone else, and he didn't care about civility. He needed to not be looking at her face, at what he had caused.

"Booth please."

He turned, wrenching his hand away from her grasp, and strode out of the Lab. God help any sorry son-of-bitch who dare stopped him on his way.

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_Coming up..._

_She was on the brink of life and death and the person responsible was right in front of her. Through her haze she'd gotten up from her chair and walked towards Booth. She'd seen his blurry face through her tears as she lifted her hand, her palm connecting sharply on his cheek. The Doctor had stopped talking immediately, and Jack had had his hands on her arms trying to calm her down, and get her away from Booth._

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	3. When It Rains

**A/N. Thank you warmly for the FANTASTIC reviews! This chapter is mostly from another point of view. I find that on the show, B&B aren't always aware of their actions towards each other, and how they may be perceived and interpreted. I also found Brennan's conversation with Angela in the finale very enlightening, and wondered if Angela understood all the subtext. I will also unashamedly admit that for some very irrational reason, Angela and the team bonding with, and warming so quickly to Hannah on the show, annoys me, so it has been inconspicuously omitted from this story ;). I hope I've managed to convey that while the team accepted and respected Booth moving on, it did not mean they welcomed the development with wide open arms. **

**joybrennan, you rock!**

**Disclaimer: Neither Bones, nor any of its characters belong to me. **

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Angela studied the tissue markers carefully. She would never really get used to the magnitude of dealing with death. She'd been told by Dr Goodman that she was the best out of them all because she gave victims a face. Brennan had told her that she had the most difficult job in the team because she dealt with faces, and therefore couldn't simply detach herself emotionally from the victims.

Brennan. She felt a pang in her chest at the thought of her best friend. Brennan was making an amazing recovery, to nobody's surprise. She'd even let Angela look after her when she was released from the hospital - as long as it didn't put a strain on her pregnancy. Angela rolled her eyes. She was constantly reminding people that she was pregnant, not incapacitated.

As she gave the victim large almond shaped eyes, and elegantly curved eyebrows, her thoughts wandered once again to Brennan. Since they'd all cut their yearlong sabbaticals short, things had been very different. Brennan had returned having gained clarity on her life, and her feelings for Booth. Booth had returned in love with a journalist he'd met in Afghanistan and their relationship, as Brennan had told her, was as serious as a heart attack. When Angela had heard that, she'd almost had one herself. Brennan had come back ready to be partners with Booth, in every sense of the word, only to discover that Booth had moved on. "Out of sight, out of mind," Angela thought bitterly.

She knew it was a little unfair to be angry at Booth, but she couldn't help it. Angela had watched her best friend as she had observed Booth's and Hannah's happiness. She'd watched as Booth went off on dates, and Brennan worked herself to death. She'd seen the sadness in her friend's eyes when the team went for celebratory drinks without Booth because he'd already made plans with Hannah. But Brennan had changed. She wasn't running from her feelings anymore. and she accepted her part in the situation. Angela had managed to make her talk, and what Brennan had revealed had been heart breaking, although she insisted that she was ok, and getting on with her life too.

Before Brennan had left, she'd told Angela that she'd needed perspective, that being around everyone had caused her to lose her objectivity. And boy, had she gained perspective. Angela smiled ruefully as she remembered that conversation. Brennan said that she had thought of Booth every single day while she had been away She'd realised that everything that had been between them, all the feelings she'd had, had culminated in fulfilling the definition of romantic love. She'd written to Booth weekly, and never received a reply, and that she had felt irrationally hurt, and sad by it. She had concluded that the feelings she had experienced stemmed from the sting of rejection by the man she loved. Once it had been established that Hannah was going to be a live in type of girlfriend Angela had been determined to be the best friend that Brennan needed to reassure her that she wasn't alone, that she had family and friends who would always love her.

Angela gave the victim a prominent chin. She had been very pretty. "Poor girl," she thought. She'd had her whole life ahead of her, and it had been cut tragically short by some scum of the earth. She added the finishing touches to her sketch, and thought back to the hell, the last month had been on everyone: Brennan and Booth had argued spectacularly in the middle of Brennan's office, Brennan had gone after him, Hannah was not who Booth had thought she was, and both Booth and Brennan had been hurt. Brennan had lost enough blood to need a transfusion, and had relied on a machine to breathe for her for two days.

When Cam had told them that Brennan had been shot, three times, and that the doctors in the ER weren't sure she'd make it through surgery, Angela had lost the ability to think straight. She'd felt faint, and put her hand protectively over her tiny belly, as her husband had bombarded Cam with questions. Jack had been beside himself. He was very fond of his Dr B, and within minutes he was navigating them through afternoon traffic as they'd rushed to Washington General. Angela couldn't comprehend what had happened. All she had known at that time was that her best friend was bleeding to death, and that she wanted to punch Booth hard in the face, flesh wound or no flesh wound. He had made the biggest mistake of his life, and her best friend was paying the price.

Everything was still so vivid and clear in her mind. Jack had had his arm around her the entire time they'd waited. Sweets had arrived after being informed by the FBI, and Max had walked in with fear and panic all over his face. Angela's heart had gone out to him. What must have been going through his head then? The fact that he'd only had his daughter back for a few years, and now there was a chance she'd leave him forever? She had cried harder, over the injustice of it all. Why wasn't anything ever fair?

Brennan had been in surgery for two hours when Booth had walked in, to the quiet waiting room. Cam, who had been staring at her lap and pursing her lips as she took deep breaths, had stood upon seeing him.

Booth hadn't responded and walked past her to slump his body against the far wall. Cam had made to follow him, but decided against it and heavily sat back in the plastic chair.

Booth had looked an absolute mess. He'd been treated for his flesh wound, and probably held a gun to some poor nurse's head to secure his release. The blood on the front of his shirt and his sleeves had made Angela's stomach churn nastily. All that blood… Brennan's blood. "It shouldn't be there," she'd thought. "It should be in her body. She shouldn't be having surgery to live, she should be talking excitedly about identifying some boring skeleton from the iron age." Angela had studied Booth's face and found nothing but anguish there. She didn't even have the energy to be mad at him like she'd wanted to.

They had waited for hours. Nobody had spoken except Sweets, who had tried to make Booth talk, only to be grunted at. Around 8:45pm a doctor had emerged from the ER with blood spattered all down the front of his scrubs, and a grim look on his face. Everyone had stood, but Angela's legs had turned to jelly, and she felt the urge to empty out the contents of her stomach.

She hadn't processed much through the haze of fear which had gripped her. She remembered the surgeon's mouth had moved, as her ears had caught singular words from what he had told her husband and her friends. Severe blood loss. Transfusion. Complications. Heart. Flat lined. Thirty-six seconds. Flat lined. Incubator. Flat lined. Observation. Flat lined. Not taking any chances. Flat lined. She'd felt the room start to spin. Brennan's heart had stopped, for more than half a minute. She'd died for thirty-six seconds. Her big, tender, broken heart had given up. She had been on the brink of life and death and the person responsible had been right in front of her. Through her haze she'd gotten up from her chair and walked towards Booth. She'd seen his blurry face through her tears as she lifted her hand, and her palm had connected sharply on his cheek. The Doctor had stopped talking immediately, while Jack had had his hands on her arms trying to calm her down, and get her away from Booth.

"This is all your fault!" Her voice had broken as tears cascaded down her face. "You...you have no right to be concerned for her, not anymore. Did you hear what he said?" She'd pointed at the Doctor who had been staring at them in shock, "She died. She gave up. Her heart was too broken. She gave up, just like you did." Jack had attempted to gently guide her away from Booth, but she hadn't finished. She wasn't thinking straight, and the room was spinning in a teary blur. "Even if she pulls through this and forgives you, I will never ever forgive you for this." Jack had practically begged her to go with him, and she'd let herself be guided out of the waiting room, through emergency, and out into the chilly D.C. air. She'd grabbed her husband and sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder. He had simply held her and whispered gentle reassurances in an attempt to calm her down.

Brennan had been in hospital for twelve days, and had been released two weeks ago. She had let Angela fuss over her to her heart's content. Not that she would have had a choice, since the woman obviously didn't know what was good for her. Brennan had spent a lot of time sleeping and regaining her strength. A nurse had visited daily to check on her healing wounds, and change her bandages.

Sometimes Angela had watched her sleep and wondered how Brennan found the courage and strength to deal with whatever life dealt her. She had told Angela that she'd had to reconcile with the fact that Booth had moved on and didn't need her. She was lucky to still have Booth be a part of her life, as her friend, and her partner. She had learned to be happy with what she had, because if she dwelled on what she'd lost, and what she could never have, it would make her bitter, and unbearably sad.

But Brennan had been sad, and Angela had found it unbearable. Her scientist, skeptic, relationships are temporary, love is temporary, friend, had disproved her own theory all by herself. She had showed love in its deepest form by allowing Booth to be happy without her, with someone else, even if it killed her inside. She'd told Brennan once that they would talk when she caught up with her own reality. It had turned out, that Brennan had known more about her reality than anyone had given her credit for. She had changed her entire life after she'd met Booth. She'd localised her career, and created a team to help him catch murderers and give them their due. She'd struggled with her feelings for him, and fallen in love - head first and hard - and hated herself for crossing Booth's stupid metaphorical line. She'd pushed the feelings down deeper and deeper in the hope that if she pushed hard enough, they might disappear for good, and never dare to bother her, and her world of logic, and science, and reason, ever again. But her clever plan had failed: Booth had offered her the world, (only to have backed down at the first sign of resistance) and forced her carefully hidden feelings to the surface. Now she was left with nothing but those feelings to haunt her.

And what about Booth? He had practically lived at the hospital until Brennan had put them all out of their misery, and woken up. Her room had been filled with various flower arrangements that her family, friends, and interns had sent her. Angela didn't miss the beautiful, long stemmed daffodil, hidden carefully behind the Singaporean Orchids. There hadn't been a card, but Angela knew who had brought it and as Brennan had gazed warmly at every single bouquet, her eyes had lingered on that single daffodil.

He didn't visit her until her 8th day in hospital. He'd dropped by to tell her that Graham Steele had been arrested in Washington State, as he'd tried to cross the border into Canada. He'd been charged as an accomplice to the murder of Terrance Gilroy, as well as to seven counts of kidnapping. Heather Taffet had been found dead. She'd knocked out a prison guard, and shot her in the chest, before turning the gun on herself. The prison guard had miraculously survived.

He hadn't visited after that until Brenan been home for a few days. Angela thought back to what had happened, and felt guilty that neither of them was aware of what she had witnessed.

_Ten days earlier._

Jack had just left after bringing over a bag full of glutinous junk - at her request, since Brennan's low fat, non-fat, sugar free, and soy snacks weren't going to satisfy her. She had long inhaled and disposed of the Baskin Robbins' Peanut Butter and Chocolate she'd found in the freezer. She was just about to raid the bag, when there was a tentative knock at the door

After checking the peephole, Angela paused. She felt guilty for slapping Booth, especially since she had come to learn that he'd had a serious concussion, as well as a flesh wound. She opened the door are found that Booth had already turned and started to walk away with his hands in his pockets.

"Booth." Angela had half stepped out of the apartment as she watched Booth turn around and look at his shoes. He had made the effort to come and see Brennan hadn't he? She wasn't going to stop him. They'd been apart too much, for too long. She wasn't going to add to that because of her own anger at him.

"You can come in. She's asleep, but I think it would mean a lot to her, knowing that you were here."

She held the door open as he slipped past her into Brennan's spacious living room. He took a deep breath and looked around at her things, as if he hadn't been there in a while. She broke the silence and told him that Brennan was making a speedy recovery and regaining her strength bit by bit. She had accused Angela of being bossy a few times, but other than that, she was being a star patient.

Booth nodded, but his attention was on the picture frames in front of him on Brennan's shelf. The polished mahogany frame in the middle contained a shot from the Christmas they had all spent together before splitting up for seven months. The team, and Sweets were gathered in front of the Christmas Tree and, around Brennan and Booth, each face shining with joy and the effects of too much wine and Brennan's highly alcoholic eggnog. To the right stood a delicate white porcelain frame. This one showed Brennan, her father, her brother, Amy, and their daughters, standing in a park with a beautiful blue sky behind them. Hayley and Emma were on either side of Brennan, clinging to their aunt as they beamed at the camera. In front of this frame and to the right had stood a black and white picture of a beautiful laughing woman, with cheekbones, a strong jaw, and large almond shaped blue eyes. It was a young, happy Christine Brennan. Angela saw Booth's eyes shift to picture on the far left. It was encased in beautiful intricately laced polished silver.

Angela's eyes softened as she realised she'd given this picture to Brennan about a year ago. Brennan looked perfectly beautiful as she smiled at her partner, who was grinning softly at her, just as handsome. They'd -with the exception of Jack, who'd been getting a tattoo without his knowledge – been celebrating their success at wrapping up another case, at the Founding Fathers. It was late, and everyone, with the exception of Brennan, Booth, and herself, had left. She too had decided to call it a night and said good-bye to the duo, who hadn't stopped bickering since Brennan had explained that Booth wasn't stupid. As she had grabbed her hand bag and barely walked away, she'd turned back to see that the mood between them had instantly become intimate.

He had turned his body towards her and whispered something in her ear, prompting her to smile brilliantly at him, her eyes sparkling. He had reacted and smiled just as brilliantly back, and Angela, who had taken out her phone to call her father to interrogate him about whether he'd killed Hodgins, had seized the opportunity and eternalised the unguarded moment between them as their expressions softened. Just in time, too. She'd later enlarged the picture, fixed the lighting, and wondered when would be a good time to give it to Brennan. Eighteen months later, when plans had been finalised for yearlong separations, Angela had slipped the photograph into her friend's handbag when she wasn't in her office. She had a feeling the photo had been to Maluku and back.

Brennan had clearly loved the picture. It was obvious she had taken a lot of care in selecting the frame. It was very different from the others, and she had picked one which complimented the picture beautifully. Angela had known her best friend long enough to know that in Brennan's life, everything had a place, and Booth's place was made clear by how she had arranged her photographs. This was Brennan's family on a shelf. He was not only part of her extended family; he made up one of her three families. They had their own little world, separate from everyone else. That family, was everything Booth and Bones.

She watched as Booth stared at the picture, the cogs turning in his head. Angela smiled gently; maybe, just maybe there could be a happy ending to this painful mess.

"I think everyone she loves is right there", she said softly. "Well, with the exception of Parker. She loves that kid. Wrote to him and sent him all sorts of weird stuff while she was away."

"Yeah. He showed me. He was the coolest kid in school for a while there. He read her letters to his class in show' n' tell." Booth had a proud look on his face as he thought of his son. "He's very fond of his Bones too, like his great-grandfather."

"And his father", Angela thought. Except he'd been too busy stupid, trying to make a point. Angela's mood had shifted to mad again. Being pregnant suited her.

"You want a drink or something? Because I was sort of, in the middle of satisfying my cravings for two."

Booth looked at her and, for the first time, she saw a genuine smile, "How's that going for you Ange?"

"Yeah, good, although I feel like a hippo and I'm not even five months along yet."

"I'm glad you're happy Ange. You look great. You and Hodgins, you deserve it." He told her sincerely.

"Yeah, thanks...Did you want to uh...?"

"If it's ok, I mean I don't want to disturb her, if she's resting."

"It's ok. Just try not to wake her up. She needs the sleep."

"Ok. Thanks. I'll just..."

He turned and walked slowly down the hall towards Brennan's bedroom. She watched him pause for a few seconds outside the door, then turn the knob slowly and slide inside. He closed the door, but did not shut it completely. Angela grabbed a giant packet of Skittles from the grocery bag, and put her feet up on the couch. She was curious, but she wasn't going to let it get the better of her just yet.

Twenty minutes later, she'd made a significant dent on the Skittles, and also demolished a packet of BBQ Sakata's, a giant choc-chip cookie, half a jar of peanut butter, a bag of peanuts, and washed it all down with cranberry juice. She was stuffed, but extremely satisfied. If Brennan was feeling up to it this afternoon, she'd ask her to go for a nice walk.

At the thought of Brennan, the curiosity, which she'd managed to sedate before, with food, got the better of her. She only wanted to make sure Brennan was alright. Yeah, because Booth was going to attack her while she slept, she chastised herself. She crept to Brennan's bedroom door and what she saw through the slight gap made her throat seize up. Booth was lying on the covers in the unoccupied half of Brennan's bed, and simply gazing at her sleeping face. One arm was tucked under his head, and his other hand was stretched out towards Brennan's hand, resting on the mattress between them. Their fingers were almost touching. Angela wondered if Booth was afraid to touch her. In a way, she couldn't blame him.

The first time they had been allowed to see her, in the ICU, they could barely recognise the woman in the bed. She was breathing through an incubator, and a green mask looked like it was covering her entire face. She was also hooked up to a heart monitor, and an IV tube was running along her forearm. There were machines which Angela hadn't known the names or functions of. When she'd entered the room, she couldn't stop staring at the person in the bed. The Brennan she had always known was tall and intimidating. This person lying before her looked like the endless white bed and all of the machines surrounding her were swallowing her up. Her rich chestnut hair had contrasted harshly with her deathly pale face. At that time, Temperance kick-ass, no-nonsense, scary intelligent, trekked through Tibet, beat up a gang-banger Brennan, had looked breakable.

Angela was shaken out of her thoughts as Booth shifted carefully off the bed and adjusted the blankets more snugly around Brennan. Already feeling guilty for having witnessed such an intimate moment, Angela made a bee-line for the living room, and proceeded to attack the half eaten packet of Skittles as she plopped herself on the couch pretending to look like she had been too comfortable to move. Booth joined her in the living room.

"Angela, I'm gonna go. Thanks."

Angela got up from the couch. "Sure. I'll tell her you came by."

"Yeah." He turned towards the door, before looking back at her. "Let me know...let me know if sh...if you need anything."

"I think we're ok. Cam's found her the best medical care, and Jack has got pretty much everything else covered."

"Ok."

With a last glance at Brennan's photographs, he had turned and let himself out….

Angela sighed and stood up from her desk. The sketch did not get any hits on the Missing Person's Database. How awful. Nobody had reported this beautiful girl missing. She stepped out of her office to notify Brennan and Cam. She found Brennan on the forensic platform, bent over what was left of the poor girl.

"So, I have a face, but I couldn't get anything off the Missing Person's Database."

Brennan took the sketch pad from Angela, and studied the face.

"I could tell from her bone structure that she had been very attractive."

Angela sighed, "Yeah she was." She looked at Brennan closely. "Hey, are you ok."

Brennan was still staring at the picture. She'd been examining the victim's remains for the most part of the morning, and had determined that cause of death had been from a fatal blow to the back of the head with a heavy object, some sort of bat. The killer had then administered a second blow, probably to ensure that the victim was dead. Since Angela had been unable to find anything on the MPD, they would need to wait until Cam was able to match the victim's teeth with dental records.

"E-mail the picture to Booth while we're waiting for Cam's results. He might be able to locate her in the Witness Protection Program, or a government watch list. "

Angela nodded, but she continued to search Brennan's face.

Brennan, you're doing great. I know it's not the same for you, not going into the field, but it won't be long until you can go back to bossing the crime scene forensics team around."

"It's not the same. I guess I just feel like I don't have as much control. It's quite silly."

"It's not Bren. I get it."

"Thank you Angela."

Angela squeezed her arm and steadily walked back to her office.

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Thank you for reading! Hang in there, part 1 of 'the' chapter is coming up next! Here's a sneak peek.

_Panic and fear were roaring through him uncontrollably. He couldn't let those feelings take over. He had to go with his instincts. He had to get himself and Bones out of this alive. First though, he had to stop her from making that fatal call._

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	4. Tidal Wave

**A/N. I sincerely apologise for the taking my sweet time to update, and promise that it won't happen again ****. If you feel a little sad after the latest episode, maybe fanfiction Booth's ****realisations**** in this chapter will cheer you up, if only a little. As for Brennan's continued sadness this season...the only thing I can say is that Emily Deschanel knows how to break my heart with her brilliance. **

**Thank you for your wonderful reviews; they really make my day! **

**Joybrennan, you are fantastic!**

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Booth wrenched open the door to the SUV and shoved himself inside. His whole body was humming with the energy of their argument. He pulled out of his parking spot and navigated towards his apartment. Hannah had cleared out her things two days ago and returned his key. Failure.

Taking a left, his thoughts drifted immediately to his fight with Bones. The whole point of provoking her had been to see if she would admit that she was happy things had ended between him and Hannah. His plan had backfired on him, and he was furious: furious at himself, furious at Bones, furious at everything and everyone. Bones had not only been unacceptably sympathetic, but she'd admitted more than he was willing to hear. He had stared at her, and barely known her, as she brought her insecurities out into the open. He had gambled that night. She said she'd been terrified they'd lose. Didn't she trust him?

"_I am not a gambler. I'm a scientist." _

Of course she was a goddamned scientist. Of course telling her he knew, and that he wanted thirty, forty, fifty years just hadn't been enough, had it! No matter what he had said, the outcome would have been the same. She was immovable, she'd said it herself, she wasn't even willing to try.

"_I can't change. I don't know how. I don't know how." _

He smacked the steering wheel and cursed. Cursed God and whatever powers that be, for the day Seeley Booth had set his eyes on Temperance Brennan. Had they never met, his life would have been wonderful, completely different! He would have had a home, a beautiful wife, with a couple of brothers and sisters for Parker; anything but this life, where the one woman he'd wanted and loved, hadn't wanted him. His mind continued to play the argument in his head, and his heart skipped a beat. He felt his stomach drop.

"_Yes I was afraid; terrified of losing the only man I've ever loved."_

His jaw slackened as he tried hard to concentrate on the road. What had she said? She had been terrified of losing the...Why hadn't he heard that in her office?

"_It hurt me too, that you wanted to gamble what we had, that even you had doubts."_

"_You weren't even sure yourself, and you expected me to take a chance, right then and there."_

He hadn't been sure, and she'd sensed that. She'd known. Cam had warned him, that he had to be sure, or Brennan would die of loneliness.

"_You regretted what you said because you realised I was right. I wasn't worthy and you deserved better."_

"_She showed me that I could be happy, and that I didn't need you for that."_

Booth felt short of breath, like the world was pressing itself around him on all sides. He pulled over onto to the side of the road, and turned off the ignition. He refused to believe he'd said that. He put his head back, closed his eyes and put his hands over his face. The only image he saw was her wide eyes and her tear stained face, as she'd processed the words rushing from his mouth.

"_Even though I'd concluded that I needed you for my happiness, I wasn't going to stand in the way."_

She hadn't. She'd told him she was happy for him. He didn't understand what was happening. Why hadn't he noticed? This was Bones. He knew how to read her.

"_You were in love with the forever you saw in your dream."_

He felt the tears slip out from beneath his scrunched eyelids.

"_I did regret that I wasn't the one, and that our relationship wouldn't be the same, but I was glad that we could continue to work together, that you could still be part of my life."_

Temperance Brennan was in love with him, had been in love with him for God knows how long, and he'd missed it.

"_After five years of just being partners, of having your metaphorical line, you suddenly want more from me."_

She'd been compartmentalising and suppressing her feelings from the beginning, and he'd forced them to the surface and refused to give her time. Neither had he fought for her. He'd given up, at the first sign of resistance. He realised now how empty his promises must have felt.

"_I told you I knew from the beginning."_

"_That was a lie! Is that what you told Hannah? That you knew right from the beginning." _

"_You never said you loved me." _

He'd managed to convince Bones that he couldn't promise to love her forever, that she had been interchangeable. He had taken part in proving that her theory had been correct; that romantic relationships and the feelings of love were temporary, caused by chemical reactions in the brain. She believed that the memory of his coma dream, and her proximity to him had had triggered his feelings, and that it had only taken seven months away from her for him to realise he had never loved her.

He felt the fog clearing in his head as he replayed that night over and over in his mind. He had never said he loved her, and she had never said she didn't love him. She had been afraid, to disappoint him, to lose him, and he hadn't heard her. He had only heard _"No." _And _"I can't change_." He'd been so crushed that, he hadn't told her all of the things he realised now he should have: that he didn't want her to change, that no matter what happened, no matter how scared she was, he was never going to give up on her and them. That her lame excuses would not suffice; she had proved time and time again how open her heart was. He should have told her that she was it for him, and that he would give her the time she needed to process everything, and when she had, he would be waiting, because he knew they would make it.

Everything made sense. Everything. From the fact she'd decided to take the cab alone, outside the Bar that night seven years ago, to her doubts, which had also been his own. He'd asked her to take a shot, based on what she'd believed, had been attraction to her, not love. A shot? A chance? Gamble? If anyone in the world knew that Temperance Brennan did not do those things, he did. She'd needed proof. And he had given her proof, proof that his pride had been wounded, and that she hadn't been worth fighting for.

He needed to get home and think things over, to process everything he'd just figured out, and to think about how he was going to fix this, how they were going to fix this. How he was going to earn her trust, and her love; how he was going to begin to apologise.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down. He couldn't believe it had taken fifteen minutes of yelling to figure out what he couldn't figure out in a year, in more than seven years.. As he put the car into gear, and pulled out, he wondered how long she had been suppressing her feelings. Had she felt them when they'd met in the lecture hall? She'd set out to prove herself to him, to prove her skill, and that scientists could so help catch murderers. It was all falling into place. She'd been interested to know that he'd ask her out, if they weren't working together It clicked. She'd been aware of their attraction since the beginning. A tiny smile appeared on his face. The moment he'd fired her, she'd told him, in her very Brennan way, that she had been interested. The reason she had gotten into that cab alone was because he had told her before they'd kissed, that he thought 'this' was going somewhere, and she had believed him, because she hadn't wanted a one night stand. She hadn't wanted to start anything with him with tequila in the picture. She had felt it was going somewhere. The smile slipped off his face as he remembered that he'd come in the next day, telling her she was hired, and not mentioned anything that had happened between them. "Damnit," he thought. He'd said it was going somewhere, and then acted like it had been nothing. Everything had gone downhill from there. They'd punished each other, and not spoken for a year.

He was impressed. Bones had shown she was so much more intuitive than anyone, including herself, gave her credit for. That night he'd rushed her. He had listened to Sweets, even though his gut had screamed at him to not take the bait, not after they'd just rehashed that first case revealing that their attraction had driven them apart. - and that she was not going to ever risk losing him again based on that sexual attraction, and maybe...

It hadn't been sexual attraction, he realised that now. It had been love. It was love. That was the reason no woman could ever reach the standard. That was the reason it had never worked out with Rebecca, Tessa, Cam, Catherine and Hannah. Bones had always had him, from the moment he had laid eyes on her, and no other woman had ever, could ever, would ever compare. That one single kiss in the rain, reeking of tequila and sex had him undone. No other woman had ever made him feel like that, like he couldn't think straight, like he had lost control of everything. He had meant it when he had whispered "Wow", before she'd made a dash for the cab.

Since that night they had both been trying to fill the void of one another with others. She had explained it by referring to it as satisfying biological urges, and he had been trying to find love in all the wrong places. He was ashamed to admit that when they had started to work together again, he hadn't wanted to fall for her, had tried hard not to. He had tried to justify it by thinking that she wasn't even his type. His type had been blonde , in control women who knew what they wanted, and didn't make him work for it. It had been easy to be with them. They hadn't challenged him, kept him on his toes, nor had they made his legs turn to jelly with one look, or one smile. He had tried hard to keep dark hair, big, vibrant eyes, curves, and bickering from his mind as much as possible, but it hadn't worked. His type had been decided for him.

"_Do you believe in fate?"_

"_Absolutely not...Ludicrous." _

He strode purposefully up the stairs towards his apartment. Finally, after seven long years, they were on the same page. The problem was that he hadn't told her that. He had accused her of being the reason he couldn't move on.

He fumbled with his keys. He was going to fight for the only woman who could complete him, and if she resisted, he was going to prove himself to her every single day until she believed him, because she was it for him. He knew it was going to be difficult to get through her walls again, walls she had built because of him, but he had made her trust him enough to work with him again; he would earn her love. He was armed with the knowledge that she loved him, and that was all he needed. First however, he was going to take a long shower, get himself together, and go and apologise for his part in everything. She had apologised for hurting him, and he was going to take his share of the blame. He would call her first to apologise for leaving, and tell her that he would be back at the lab in half hour. He reached for his phone, but it wasn't there. He must have left it in the car.

He pushed open the door cursing. He'd have to go back down and get it. He stopped as the door opened to reveal his living room.

"Hannah!"

"Hello Seeley"

He closed the door, and stared at her. She had been sitting on his couch, and now stood to greet him.

"Hi. Did you forget something?"

"Yeah, actually I did."

His instincts kicked in. How had she let herself in? She'd returned his key, hadn't she?

"Oh, I let myself in." She laughed;, she'd seen the question in his eyes.

"How?"

She smiled humourlessly, "I had a spare key."

No, no she didn't.

He fiddled with his keychain and held up the key she had returned two days ago. "This one?"

"No Seeley."

"Hannah, what is going on?" He felt the uncertainty creeping up his body. Her behaviour had him feeling edgy, and alert.

"I told you Seeley, I forgot something." He saw her flick her wrist, but he was faster. He'd drawn his own gun before she'd levelled her own at him.

"Put it down! Now!"

"You made it so easy for me Seeley."

"Drop the gun Hannah!" His voice came out firm and confident, and thankfully had not betrayed his confusion over this unbelievable situation. Hannah, the woman who had made his time in a war zone bearable, who had brought him happiness, shared his bed, was now aiming a gun at his chest. He was conflicted and extremely bewildered

"You were so broken" she said in mock sympathy. "You wanted to forget about her, to hate her. And there I was. You're old type; Like an oasis in that godforsaken desert. I couldn't have been more different, a more welcome...distraction, especially after I made it so easy." She had moved, and he was moving parallel with her.

That nasty feeling creeping up on him was becoming stronger: the feeling that he had been played.

"You were so caught up in getting over her, that you didn't even think twice about the fact that I was able to just, leave Afghanistan and come back to be with you." She smiled, "You were too busy using me to rub it in Dr Brennan's face, how happy you were."

"I didn't use you." He growled.

"Oh, but you did Seeley. I saw the change in you the moment I showed up. But you are such an honourable man aren't you? You couldn't just tell me to go away when I'd changed the direction of my entire career for you. So you decided that you might as well give it a shot, and try to convince yourself that it would work."

Booth gritted his teeth and breathed through his nose. She had hit the nail on the head there. He had been trying to convince himself, more than Bones, more than anyone, that he was truly happy. However, now wasn't the time to dwell on that.

"What's this all about?"

"This is me telling you, that my assignment was so much easier than I'd initially thought., I was told that you were extremely sharp, that you'd managed to somehow blast your way out of the hold on a ship which was minutes from sinking."

Comprehension dawned on him.

"Where's Bones?"

She laughed, "Oh, don't worry about Dr Brennan, Seeley. My boss will take good care of her once I give him the all clear. He'll make sure that this time, he won't be as sloppy as he and Heather had been before, when they'd stuffed her in the car with bug guy, and forgotten to confiscate their things."

Panic and fear were roaring through him uncontrollably. He couldn't let it take over. He had to go with his instincts. He had to get himself and Bones out of this alive, but first, he had to stop her from making that fatal call.

"I'm here. You got what you wanted Hannah. I'll even drop the gun." He started to lower his weapon.

She scoffed, "You're going to at least have to try to do better than that Seeley. I lived with you, I shared your bed, give me some credit! I know you're carrying at least two more of those, and that there's one hidden in one of your ridiculous socks"

He lowered his weapon, and put it on the ground in front him. He would have to rely on his negotiation skills. He pulled out the pistol from inside his sock – his heart lurched when he saw it was the red pair with the evil looking skulls that Bones had given to him as a joke – and put it on the floor as well.

"Kick them here." She ordered not taking her eyes of his hands.

He did as she had told him, but the next few seconds happened as if he had been propelled into slow motion. It began with insistent knocking on the door, and he hadn't even had time to process the fate that awaited the person on the other side of it, when he'd felt the shot ring out. Next second, he had slammed his weight against the wall as the force of the bullet tore through his flesh, sending searing pain into his right shoulder. As he lost his balance and slid down the wall, his head spun uncontrollably from the impact against the wall. Somewhere, someone was banging on something insistently, and he wished they'd stop; it was making his head pound. He had to get a grip. It was only his shoulder that had been injured; he'd had much worse than that. He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to stop the spinning, and the pounding in his head. It must have helped, because all he could hear now was silence.

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Review, and tell me how much you hate me right now :p


	5. The Eye of The Storm

**A/N. Hello my faithful peeps! Yes I know, I'm late updating AGAIN. But this time, I do actually have a valid excuse! As some online fans are aware, the much loved ABY forum closed its doors this week, and my husband and I were so very saddened to be losing our online home, and family that we created a sister forum called The Founding Fathers! The response from everyone has been so incredible, that I'm overwhelmed! Come and say hello, discuss the show, have a sticky beak in the Spoilers section, and feel part of a wonderful online community! Whether you are continuing from the ABY or signing up as a new member, or wish to share your fanfiction, fan art, or fan videos, EVERYONE is welcome! My name on there is RubyRuby. Drop me a PM, if you need any help. You can find us at **

**I'd like to give a shout out to: Bug (co-founder of the ABY) for all her help and support, and also to mereva, joybrennan and treble! We could not have made such a smooth transition and had everything up and functioning without you! Last but absolutely not least, to my wonderful husband who was instrumental in convincing me that we would make it work!**

**I also wanted to say that I had a stupid grin on my face all through watching episode 4! Brennan, you tell 'em gurl! Don't you dare let anyone steal your genius murder plot! And if Booth, or anyone else ever mentions a 'fig' again, I won't be held responsible for my actions!  
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**Finally, I promise I will reply to reviews as soon as I can. Thank you, they are amazing!**

**And now, on to the next part of the story...**

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_He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to stop the spinning, and the pounding in his head. It must have helped, because all he could hear now, was silence. _

When he opened his eyes he knew that this was some hellish nightmare, and that at any second now, he was going to wake up. It had to be, because standing there in front of him, with a gun to her head, and horror written all over her face, was Bones.

Her eyes were raking over him taking in every inch and he noticed them linger on the wound in his shoulder. He could tell she was trying to process what she'd just walked into. He paled even more when he saw what she was holding in her hand: his phone. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he'd been sitting on her couch agitated, and she must have been worried when he'd left abruptly. She would have tried to call him, found the phone, and come to find him. And now, because he had been in such a hurry to get away from her, she had a gun to her head.

Hannah had chosen that moment to interrupt his thoughts, "This must be my lucky day."

Brennan tore her eyes from Booth. This looked - and felt like - one of her many dreams about Booth being hurt. The only difference was, that his now ex-girlfriend hadn't been part of the horror. She glanced at Hannah. "Would you care to tell me what's going on?"

Hannah sneered at Brennan, "What's going on _Temperance,_ is that you have made this so much easier, for everyone involved."

"Made what easier, exactly?"

Hannah opened her mouth to answer the question, but turned the conversation in a completely different direction. She grinned, "You know Temperance, I read every single letter you sent to Seeley? Before I shredded them, of course. I was surprised to find them so touching, since the way Seeley here described you, I was led to believe you had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon."

Booth's face reflected Brenna's own shock, as it dawned on both of them, why there had been no communication between them for seven months.

Hannah grinned wider, "And I read your letter to "Bones" too, Seeley. Didn't have much to say to her did you, if I remember correctly." She pushed the gun against Brennan's temple, and steered her deeper into the room. She continued to point Booth's gun in her other hand, straight at his chest. "Seeley didn't even bother signing his letter, but you Temperance, you signed five of them "Bones" and then the ones after, ended with "Love Bones. Awwww, that was just so...Lucky for me, he never got to read one, because it would have made my job, almost impossible."

She let out a laugh and glanced at Brennan, "Did it hurt? Did you think when you got back, that the reason he hadn't bothered to write to you was because he was...too busy...showing me how much he loved me?" She pouted, "Of course it bothered you Temperance; I saw it in your eyes every time you saw us together. Your attempts to be happy for him, to smile, to help me pick out his gift; they were just so pathetic."

Booth could see what she was doing. She was using whatever leverage she had to distract Brennan and force her to drop her defences.

"Don't...Hannah, please just-"

"But why Seeley? You were having so much fun playing pretend when I arrived: giving me key the moment I got here, showing me off to your friends. And while I enjoyed manipulating you both, I didn't enjoy being used to make a point Seeley." She pushed the gun harder against Brennan's temple.

Booth concentrated hard on ignoring what she was saying, and focussed instead on whether or not he could manage to create enough of a distraction to get her away from Bones. He could easily use his free hand grab the gun concealed in the holster on his lower back, but he couldn't take the risk. Any sudden movement might spook her into pulling the trigger of either one of the weapons in her hands.

"I suppose sharing his bed made up for all of that though," she sneered at Brennan. "Oh he is all man, and so romantic. Too bad your insecurities and useless feelings got in the way of you finding out for yourself, Temperance."

Booth could feel the moisture in his eyes, and the bile rising up, in his throat. The betrayal hit him hard as he locked his gaze with Bones. He tried to tell her with his eyes how sorry he was, for everything, for her having to stand here and be taunted with her own feelings, and be forced listen to how he had been manipulated and used as part of a twisted plan to get to them.

She saw the apology in his tear filled eyes, and hastily tried to push down the lump in her throat and ignore the moisture in her own eyes. Yes it had hurt, and yes, she could have done without hearing all of that, but right now she needed to think how to get them out of there. They were two against one. Even though Booth was injured and probably had concussion, she knew there was a gun on his person somewhere, because their assailant's gun was pointing at her head, while one of Booth's guns was being aimed at his chest. His other gun had been kicked under the coffee table, out of Booth's reach. Brennan thought about trying to simply grab hold of both Hannah's wrists and aiming a knee to her stomach, but the risk that she might shock her into pulling the trigger of the gun aimed at Booth, was too high. She wished she had a gun too.

Hannah was talking again. "It's too bad that this is all going to end for the both of you. You're not going to be together in your last hours alive either."

Brennan sensed her chance when Hannah startled at the shrill sound of Booth's phone ringing. She saw Hannah's grip loosen on the gun pointing at Booth, and seized the opportunity. She ducked her head, and used her left arm to knock the gun pointing at Booth, out of Hannah's hand, and kick it towards Booth, as she brought up her right knee and aimed it at Hannah's stomach.

Booth had already used the moment to reach around and wrench the gun from his holster. Everything seemed to happen all at once. Bones had smacked the gun out of Hannah's hand and tried to kick it to him as she'd ducked from the gun held to her temple. Hannah had recovered quickly, and as Booth had raised the arm with the injured shoulder to take his shot, the room spun dangerously before him. As he concentrated hard on his aim, two shots rang out in quick succession, followed by a third, from the gun in his own hand, aimed at Hannah's chest. The image of what happened next would be burned into his mind forever. He heard Bones gasp after the first two shots. Hannah had then pulled Brennan's body in front of her, and used it to shield herself from the bullet fired by Booth. It tore through Brennan's right shoulder. She looked directly into his horrified eyes, and fell to her knees clutching her stomach, dark red blood spurting onto her fingers.

Before Brennan's upper body had hit the floor on her side, Booth had fired two bullets into Hannah's chest, as she'd started to raise her gun to his head. The gun fell from her grasp, and landed near Brennan's feet. Hannah's jaw slackened as she stared shocked at Booth for a split second, before her body toppled backwards onto the floor behind Brennan.

Booth felt his whole body start to shake. "Bones!" He tried to stand, but the room spun dangerously, so he decided to crawl instead, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He reached her, and almost collapsed from the dizziness, and the panic and fear which had gripped him like a vice. There were three large pools of blood forming on her shirt. He snatched his phone from where she'd dropped it on the floor, and dialled 911. "Stay with me Bones, come on."

He put his hand on her injured arm and lay her flat on her back, pulling her gently towards him, and brushing the hair out of her face. Her breathing was shallow, and she was fast going into shock. He half sat, half laid next to her and put one hand on each of the wound's on her stomach, and her right ribcage. She had been shot in the lung. The operator had barely picked up when he breathed into the phone. "This is Special Agent Seeley Booth, badge number JTT047101111. I need help right now. My partner has been shot. Please, you need to get here quickly…So much blood…" He wasn't able to contain the fear in his voice, as Brennan's blood seeped through his fingers. He had the phone pressed between his ear and his uninjured shoulder, but he couldn't sit up any longer "Help us…please...quickly..." was all he was able to gasp out as his vision blurred from the constant pounding in his head, and the phone clattered to the floor. He lay beside her, his hands still trying to stop the flow of blood from her two, more serious wounds. He felt the tears roll down his face into the dark hair framing her now sickeningly pale face.

"I'm sorry Bones. I'm so sorry." He whispered. "I know it's a lot to ask, but please, please, stay with me, just keep breathing Ok"

Brennan could only just make out his voice through the white hot pain shooting through her body and the pounding in her ears. She couldn't see his face through the slit in her eyelids, and the tears which had gathered there, but he was with her, and she was glad. She knew that the chances she'd survive the blood loss as her body went into shock, were slim, but she was glad he would be the one beside her when she would take her last breath and succumb to her body. She felt her tears fall onto her cheeks as she thought of all of the things she wanted to say to him, but couldn't because she could hardly take a breath, let alone talk.

She wanted to tell him that because of him she believed in love, and in her love for him. She wanted him to know that she hadn't pushed him away because he wasn't worthy, and she was sorry for not giving them a chance; so sorry. She wanted to tell him that she wanted him to be happy, and not to cry anymore; that he had a life to live, and a son to live for, and thirty, forty, fifty years to find. She wanted to ask him to promise that he'd come and talk to her afterwards, like she'd promised him on a rainy day so long ago. She felt him nuzzle his nose against her cheek, and felt his tears mingle with hers, sliding down her face. She was losing this battle. She wanted to lose, and give up, and let the darkness swallow her. But Booth's voice kept bringing her back to the surface.

He was so close to her face, he could see the whites of her eyes through her eyelashes. He felt his heart stop as her eyelids gently fluttered closed, and the final tears leaked out from underneath them.

"No no no no, don't do that. Come on!" He applied more pressure to her lung and stomach. "Don't do this. I know you can do it Bones. Keep breathing, open your eyes for me. Come on. Do it for me….please. Don't give up on me, God, baby please!" He was almost sobbing now as he begged her to stay with him, "Bones, remember what you told me today? Stay with me, come on, I need you to stay with me Bones, so I can show you everyday how much I love you. I promise. Please!"

Stay with him. Yes she really wanted to do that, she really did. She wanted to kiss him and hold him and feel his arms around her. What was he saying? He was telling her how much he loved her, and she wanted to reciprocate, but she didn't think she could keep breathing much longer. She couldn't keep fighting oblivion any longer. Booth's lovingly whispered last words were enveloping her in a warm blanket, and she finally felt peaceful. She was no longer afraid of the darkness claiming her.

She was barely breathing now. He lifted his head to look at her, almost covering his body with hers as he desperately tried to stem the blood flow, frantically whispering everything he could to bring her back. He lifted two blood stained fingers to her throat, but either there was no pulse, or he just couldn't feel anything at all, because the world slowly blurred and crashed around him, and he felt his head hit her body before everything went black.

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If you feel the need to throw something at me, throw me a REVIEW!

Coming up next, is my favourite chapter, and it will be posted on Monday!


	6. Signals from a Lighthouse

**A/N. As promised, the new chapter is here! Some of you wonderful reviewers said that you re-read the story, after the last chapter. Well, I'm sure you will have no trouble connecting this chapter to something small but very significant from chapter 3 ;). Enjoy! **

**Big hugs to joybrennan, my fabulous beta! **

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Brennan studied the clouds above her. The one shaped like a butterfly disappeared behind the Lincoln Memorial. A light breeze caressed her face and caused gentle ripples in the Reflecting Pool before her. She felt happy. It was a beautiful day, one of those days where Booth would say it was wonderful to be alive: to smell fresh air, see the blue sky, and smell the freshly cut grass. She looked at her hands. They were her hands; long, slim fingers and neatly trimmed nails. Her mother's intricately scrolled ring was on the fourth finger of her right hand. She ran her fingers through her soft hair. Booth was right. She was happy to be alive.

She realised the mall was very quiet. Now that she thought about it, she was the only one there, which was very strange; especially since she was sure it was a weekday. The coffee cart was nowhere to be seen. That was strange. She remembered Booth telling her something. Where was he?

"Temperance."

She looked to the right bank of the Reflecting Pool and her eyes widened. There, standing in the clothes she had remembered her wearing many years ago, was her mother. She was several feet away, but Brennan could her hear mother talking like she was standing right next to her. She wanted to walk to her. She wanted to reach out and touch her, and hold her tightly and take back the last nineteen years. But, as she started walking towards her, her mother held up her hand.

"Stop sweetheart." '

She did. "But why? Aren't you glad I'm here...Mom?"

Her mother's eyes filled with tears, and she smiled sadly. "Of course I'm happy to see my baby girl, but I'm not glad you're here. Do you understand what I'm telling you sweetheart?"

Brennan understood the difference. Her mother was happy to see her, but not happy that she was here. She felt confused as to why. Why was her mother sad that she was at the Reflecting Pool. Was it dangerous? Had she done something wrong by coming here? She didn't even remember how she had gotten here, come to think of it.

"Temperance." Her mother called to her again. "I need you to listen to me very carefully, ok?"

She nodded. She felt very light all of a sudden.

"Afterwards, if you choose to come to me, I promise I won't stop you."

Brennan realized her mother was waiting for an answer. She nodded.

"Look to your left Temperance. Someone else is waiting for you too."

Brennan turned to look to the left bank of the Reflecting Pool, and felt a familiar warmth seep through her at the sight; a feeling she ever only associated with one person. Booth was standing on the edge of the pool holding a single long stemmed daffodil, the vibrant yellow petals and lush green leaves contrasted with his dark suit. He was looking around trying to find someone. She knew who he was looking for. She didn't have a doubt in her mind.

"Soon, you'll have to make a choice. You have to decide which way you want to go sweetheart."

She didn't understand. Why couldn't she stay here? It was a beautiful day and she was with Booth, and her mother, two people she loved the most in the world. She felt comforted, and so warm.

"Why Mom? I'm happy here. There's no pain here. I'm not afraid of anything here."

"You can't stay here forever honey. I wish I could help, but I can't. The choice has to be yours. You won't be able to change your mind once you decide. The person who's waiting for you loves you very much. He can't find you, and he's scared he'll never find you."

Brennan didn't understand how Booth couldn't see her. He had looked over at her at least three times now. Why hadn't he seen her? "Booth!" Her voice hadn't seemed to have carried over to him. He was still looking for her, playing with the stem of the daffodil nervously. She turned to her mother, who seemed to have read her unspoken question.

"He can't see you sweetheart. He doesn't know you're here. He's going to wait for you though, but he's getting worried that you may not want to meet him."

Of course she wanted to meet him.

"If you choose to go to him, once you are on his side of the bank, he will be able to see you. But I can't tell you what will happen after that. How difficult it might be for you to make it all the way to him."

Her mother was smiling, and the tears were back.

"If you choose to come to me, the daffodil will wilt the moment you step onto my side of the bank. Once you are by my side, we can be together again, forever, but he will disappear."

Comprehension dawned on Brennan. She would have to choose between her mother, and Booth. She felt her heart constrict. She felt the tears pricking the corners of her own eyes as she looked at Booth twisting the daffodil nervously in his fingers. Rainclouds had started to appear behind him, and it had begun to get dark.

"I wish it could be different baby, but I made my choices a long time ago. They weren't the best, but I had to make them because I love you and your brother so much. You understand don't you honey?"

Brennan nodded. What her mother had done, no matter how much it had hurt, had been out of love. She had forgiven her, and her father.

"I love you Temperance, and I'm so very proud of you. There are so many things I wish I could have been a part of in your life, and I'm sorry I wasn't. But we can't change the past. You can, however, decide your path." her mother said sadly.

Brennan could smell the rain coming, but she realised there were no storm clouds gathering where her mother was standing. Booth's side of the bank was becoming darker, and his face had become sad. Brennan felt her heart lurch. She wanted to run to him and comfort him, feel his arms around her.

"It's almost time sweetheart." Her mother said, as she saw the impending storm on Booth's side of the bank.

"Remember, regardless of what you choose, we both love you."

Brennan looked at her mother, at the woman she loved fiercely, the mother she felt the loss of everyday, the mother she was seeing after almost two decades. She knew if she walked over to her, she would never risk losing her again, but on the other side of the bank stood the man who she wanted to spend thirty, forty, fifty years with, the man who was waiting for her, with a daffodil in his hand, because he was never going to settle for second best.

"Mom," she said through her tears, "I love you, and I'm so happy you're here, and I forgive you for everything, and Dad too." She swiped furiously at her tears, "But Booth," She took a deep breath, "Booth needs me. He's waiting for me. He wants me to find him." She could smell the rain.

Her mother gave her a teary smile. "I know sweetheart. I know. You need one another. While I'm glad today is not the day, we'll be together again someday. I promise. But first, you need to go and find your happiness. Don't deny yourself that any longer. It all goes by so fast. I wish I'd had more time with your father, but like I said, we will all meet again, and I'll be waiting." She put her hand on her heart, and smiled serenely.

Brennan wanted to reach out to her, to touch her, grab her. All of a sudden, she felt fifteen years old again. Her mother was going to leave. She wanted to fall to her knees and sob hysterically, but the thought of who was waiting for her on the other bank calmed her. He would be there for her. He was going to help her get through this. He wasn't ever going to leave her. He loved her, and they were going to spend a lifetime together. She knew.

"I love you. Never forget that Temperance."

"I love you Mom."

Her mother beamed at her. "Now go. Time is running out, and it's going to be difficult. I love you"

With those final parting words, her mother turned and walked away, her hair blowing gently in the breeze. Her retreating form began to fade and before long, she was a wisp in the breeze.

Brennan watched her disappear and turned towards Booth, who was now sitting on the bench looking at his shoes. The rain had begun to fall, as she started towards him. She knew calling out to him would be no use, so she began to run. The rain was coming down harder now, and she could hear the rumble of the thunder, as her feet slid on the slippery grass, soaking her shoes. She couldn't close the distance, between them, it seemed the harder she tried, the more out of reach Booth became. She would have to push harder, run faster. The rain was falling in sheets, and she was drenched from head to toe. She could just make out Booth's form pacing in front of the bench. The daffodil in his hand, which hadn't seemed to have been affected by the downpour, stood out to her like a beacon, guiding her towards him.

She was struggling to reach his side of the bank. It felt ridiculous, since only a few minutes ago, the left bank had been several feet away, if anything. It was as if the ground was being pulled from underneath her, trying to push her back. But Booth was waiting for her - she couldn't give up. Hadn't her mother said it was going to be difficult? She needed to get to him, to let him see her, so they could get out of this awful rain and thunder.

Brennan fell to her knees, grasping at the ground as she slid her way to the bank. She felt the tears streaming down her face mingle with the large droplets of rain, as she practically sobbed from exertion and desperation.

Finally, after almost ten minutes of clawing the ground fiercely with her hands and dragging her knees along the muddy grass, she had reached the line. There was no physical line, but she somehow knew that this was the threshold to where Booth was waiting. If she could make it across, she would be able to call out to him. She grabbed the ground in front of her with her right hand, and felt the ground tilt upwards, and she was left dangling. Her hands clawed at her ledge, and she saw nothing but darkness below her. No, this could not be happening; she was close, so close to him. She could already feel his warmth through the freezing cold rain. She gritted her teeth, dug her nails into the muddy grass, and tried to heave herself up onto the ledge. "Booth!" she screamed into the downpour, as she sobbed. "Booth, I'm here! Please help me!" She felt her fingers slide closer to the edge, her grip slipping and sliding in the grass. She was so close, so close. She lifted her head, and pushed herself up on her forearms. "Booth!"

He turned and in a moment was running towards her, sliding a little on the grass in his haste. It took him a few more seconds for him to reach her, and she dug her elbows into the ground as her hands had become numb from the cold. She felt a sharp pain in her chest and her right shoulder as she struggled to propel her upper body up and forward. Strong hands gripped her upper arms and urgently tugged her body upwards. As Booth dragged her body forwards, and her lower body made contact with solid ground, she felt another sharp pain in her stomach.

"Bones! Bones!" Booth was calling to her urgently as he gathered her in his arms.

She was in so much pain, but she threw her arms around him, and buried her head in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. His hands were shaking as he cradled her head with the palm of his hand, his other arm snaking around her waist. "Bones, you're here! You're here." He whispered it into her hair over and over again, his tears evident in his voice.

She didn't know how long they sat there. The downpour had calmed to a steady shower. She felt something sticky slipping down her skin and pulled back a little from his embrace. Her eyes were drawn to the dark patch on his right shoulder. Her eyes widened in horror. Booth was hurt, and bleeding. She could feel a metallic taste in her mouth, and the sticky sensation on her skin was becoming more prominent. She looked down at her body and found a large red spot forming on her sky blue shirt in the place where her right lung would be, and another spot on her stomach. She jerked herself backwards and felt the pain in her right shoulder as her arm slipped from around Booth's waist. She saw another pool of blood forming just above her armpit.

Her eyes flew to Booth's. She saw that he was worried, but he didn't let go of her, and his eyes were reassuring. She didn't know how he could just sit here calmly in the rain while they were both wounded and bleeding. They needed to get help fast. She started to struggle, to try to get them both up standing, but he tightened his grip on her gently and shook his head. What was wrong with him? She felt short of breath, as the pain seared through her body, but he just held her and looked at her lovingly, touching his forehead to hers, looking in to her eyes.

"Shhh, it's all going to be ok now Bones." He spoke calmly and kissed her forehead. "I got you. I got you baby."

He was holding her hand, squeezing gently, reassuringly. She stared at him and believed him. She let his hand rub hers gently as the rain trickled down to a drizzle…. She could hear her breathing become louder in her ears…. She was slipping into a white haze, but she wasn't afraid, because Booth had her, was still holding her hand, and he wouldn't let go. It wasn't raining anymore, and she didn't feel numb from cold. Her ears started to fill with another sound, a faint humming, or was it beeping…she couldn't really tell. Her hand was being stroked gently, like it was the most precious, breakable thing.

She was lying on her back, somewhere soft and warm. She needed to see where she was, see the person stroking her hand with so much loving care. Slowly, she mustered her strength, cautiously lifted her eyelids a tiny fraction, and looked through her eyelashes. It was ok. The light was gentle and dim. She opened her eyes wider and blinked: once, twice. When she opened them fully she found herself staring into a pair of brown eyes she'd know anywhere. She saw the relief wash over the familiar face as he squeezed her hand, then reached up to press her call button. The eyes were back again, this time there were tears in them. She wanted to reach up and stroke Booth's cheek, but she was so sleepy, so tired. She didn't know where the rest of her body was, only the hand that was now being gently kissed as her eyes closed again, blocking out the beeping and the sound of her breathing.

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**A/N. I hope that I was able to portray that the daffodil (Brennan's favourite flower) represents B&B's relationship. Brennan seeing Booth holding the flower signified to her that neither of them would ever settle for anything less than each other. Their relationship is their touchstone; it is unbreakable; hence the daffodil being unaffected by the rain. It is that strong connection that guides Brennan to Booth. **

Now if you would kindly hit _that _button – you know the one – I will be very pleased to read your thoughts!


	7. Drowning in Despair

**A/N: Hello lovely readers! Now this chapter was difficult to write. I am a little nervous about it, because the emotions I wanted to portray are rather complex. Be warned: this one is very angsty, but I'm sure you all knew it was to be expected. **

**Now, I hope I responded to everybody's fabulous reviews! You have no idea how much they motivate me :D**

**To my beta joybrennan: you are priceless babe!**

**And now…**

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Booth sat in the plastic chair and stared through the gap in the blinds. The sun was slowly rising, as the world prepared for another day. There was a small line forming at the coffee cart in the park below. Booth turned away from the window, and his eyes automatically fell on the woman sleeping in the bed next to him. Most of her face was obscured by the ugly green mask, and the skin that was visible , looked sickly. Booth didn't dare look further past her face. The first time he had laid eyes on the intubation had been enough to sear the image in his memory forever.

Booth found it hard to believe that, this time yesterday, he was getting ready for the work day. He had stopped at the Diner for a coffee before confining himself to his office to finish his share of the paperwork. He remembered wanting to take his time in order to prolong the moment when he would need to see Bones. How much had changed in twenty-four hours. Yesterday he hadn't wanted to be near her, to speak to her, nor hear what she had to say, because he hadn't wanted to face his own failures. Today, he would give anything for her to open her eyes and say something, anything. He would even settle for scientific jibber jabber, only just to hear her voice and see her eyes light up.

His exhaustion was slowly giving way to panic. She had been moved from Recovery more than six hours ago, but her condition hadn't changed. The sounds coming from the machines were making his head throb. The thought that she needed those machines to keep her alive, was nauseating.

A comforting hand on his shoulder pulled Booth from his thoughts. He gaze flicked to Cam's tired and worried eyes. She held out a cardboard tray with two Styrofoam cups in her other hand. Booth accepted a cup, and took a sip, without tasting the coffee. Numerous attempts - by the Squints, Sweets, the medical staff - were made to get him to go home and let Sweets keep him company as he recovered from the concussion. Despite this, Booth had not left Brennan's side since she had been moved from the ER to Recovery. Hodgins had forced a distraught and exhausted Angela home with the promise of coming back first thing in the morning. Cam had made a few calls, and then asked Sweets to drive to Booth's apartment – now a crime scene – and grab his overnight bag from Charlie.

Cam had volunteered for the first 'shift'. They had decided amongst themselves that neither Booth nor Brennan was going to be left alone. She knew a few of the medical staff at the hospital, and had had a quiet word with them about the need to extend visiting hours for Dr Brennan in order to prevent a possible scene. Max Keenan had looked ready to murder anyone who dared to coax him to leave his daughter, and Booth had ignored everyone's requests.

Cam placed her coffee on the spare seat and picked up Brennan's chart. Everything looked to be the same as the last time she had checked. The doctors were monitoring her closely for any signs of infection as a result of the transfusion. She was still relying on intubation, but her heart rate remained steady. Cam's eyes traveled to the woman in the bed, and she let out a long breath. Even after a night in the hospital, she was still having trouble processing the fact that the person lying before her was Dr Brennan. Everything had happened so quickly, so unexpectedly, that the situation seemed surreal; from the call she'd received from the FBI, to waiting in the ER, to witnessing Angela's rage and Booth's distress. Looking at Booth again, Cam realised he was still in his blood stained clothes. The bag containing his spare clothing was lying forgotten underneath his chair.

"Booth, you need to get out of those clothes. I told you that the nurse allowed you to have a shower in the bathroom here." Cam gestured to the door in the left hand corner of the room.

Booth continued to play with his cup.

"Where's Max?" He asked.

"He's outside talking to Russ. They're making arrangements to get him to DC as soon as possible."

"What about Hodgins and Angela? What about Sweets?"

"Hodgins called and said they're on their way. Angela has the day off to stay here today, and Hodgins will be staying this afternoon. Sweets told me before he left this morning, that he would be in as soon as he could, and that he'll sit with you tonight." She touched his arm, "Booth, we are going to get through this. You need to let us help you. I'm right here. Go on; go and take a shower and get out of those clothes."

"You don't understand." Booth placed his coffee cup on the bedside table and pushed the bag out from under the chair with his feet. He grabbed it roughly with one hand and shuffled towards the small bathroom.

Cam stared at his back, until he disappeared behind the bathroom door. She had no idea what to do.

Once Booth had locked the door, he leaned back against it and let the bag fall from his grasp. Even being separated from Bones by a door felt wrong. He owed it to her to be there with her. With that thought in mind, Booth pushed off the door, kicked off his shoes, and walked to the tub to turn the taps. His hands found the buttons on his shirt, and he proceeded to undo each one while looking straight ahead. After the last button, he shrugged himself out of the shirt, bunched it, and laid it carefully on the small vanity, careful not to touch any of the stained parts. He didn't deserve to touch any part of her. He unbuttoned his pants and let them pool at his feet. The socks were last to come off, and he avoided looking at them as well. Booth grabbed the duffel, and pulled out a plastic bag, which he folded and tied clumsily around his shoulder, knotted it under his arm pit, and ignored the sharp stabs of pain. The voice in his head told him he deserved it and should therefore just suck it up. He was responsible for putting his partner in her current condition, and he couldn't handle a flesh wound?

Booth stepped into the tub and let the water from the shower head spray onto his face. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed the images to go away. If he was honest with himself, he wanted the last year to go away. He wanted to wake up and for everything that had happened to have been a dream. He had never listened to Sweets and rushed Bones; they hadn't run from each other; he hadn't jumped into bed with a woman he barely knew - in a warzone; he hadn't pushed Bones away upon their return; he hadn't failed to notice her and everything she brought to his life; he hadn't jumped at the first opportunity to prove to her that she wasn't anything special or worth waiting for when another woman had shown him how willing she was to be with him; he hadn't consoled his wounded pride with lust, and a need to prove that he could have anyone he wanted; he hadn't ignored his best friend's loneliness; he hadn't blamed her for failing to move on; he hadn't told her that he didn't need her.

This however, was a nightmare he wasn't going to wake up from; he was living it. Booth turned the tap and increased the temperature to the point where the hot water was scalding his skin. His chest and feet were turning pink. He grabbed the small bar of soap sitting at the edge of the tub and began to scrub at his skin. He was unclean and tainted. He wanted to erase the other woman from his life, from his body, from his mind. That same woman shared responsibility for what had happened to the woman hooked up to machines in the next room. That woman had touched him everywhere, with her dirty, murderous hands; had looked at him adoringly with her deceitful gaze; had whispered sweet nothings with her manipulative mouth.

Booth's skin was burning from his aggressive, panicked fingers scrubbing at his skin, and the scorching water. His eyes were stinging with tears, and he let out a sob as images of Brennan's face flashed before him. A few tears escaped and mingled with harsh spray on his face, as he remembered, really remembered the brief flash of pain in her eyes when he had told her that he had fallen in love in Afghanistan. He scrubbed his left arm harder as he realised how hard she had tried to hide her pain every time she had seen him and Hannah together: kissing, laughing, going on dates, having fun. He scrubbed his right arm as he thought about the night he had received a Bakelite phone as a house warming gift, had kissed his girlfriend and conveniently forgotten to acknowledge the woman the gift had been from. He reached around and scrubbed his back as he thought back to the time his girlfriend had been in hospital, and how his partner had tried to reassure and assist them as best she could.

Booth sobbed harder, trying to stifle the sound so that Cam wouldn't be able to hear anything but the sound of the water. How he hated himself for not wanting to notice every way in which Brennan had shown her love, especially when she had tried so hard to be happy for him while watching from the sidelines as he 'loved' another woman. He didn't deserve that sort of pure, unconditional devotion from her, not when he had gone out of his way to close himself off to her feelings and her barely masked pain. So much for him preaching about love, and what it entailed. Sure, he had given Bones the facts, but she had shown him real love in all its painful glory.

Booth rested his forehead and his hands against the tile. It was becoming more and more difficult to contain the shuddering sobs racking his body. He tried to banish the memory of every nasty and uncaring thought he'd had towards Bones since she had refused to accept his gamble, but they were behaving like a vindictive monster, roaring to the forefront of his mind. The memory of comparing her 'missing links' to the supposed perfection of a woman he'd only known mere months – with Caroline Julian of all people – made his stomach churn. No wonder Bones felt like she was invisible. She had felt at the time that the people in her life only needed her as an anthropologist, not a person.

Every little thing she had said or done over the past few months was crashing down on him. Her sadness and loneliness washed over him in endless, painful splashes of burning water. As he turned from the wall, his gaze caught sight of the blood stained shirt on the vanity, through the small gap in the shower curtain. It was as if wearing that shirt, covered in her blood had provided numb comfort these last few hours. Now, he had nothing of hers to cling to in order to keep him sane, and to protect him from his own anguish, from the truth. Not only was he responsible for what the other woman had done to Bones, he himself had physically shot his partner. His own hands had contributed to her current condition and a bullet from his own gun had torn her flesh and caused her to bleed. He had made his own physical mark on her perfect skin. His mind was trying to tell him that he hadn't shot her intentionally; that he had been trying to help to get them out of that situation, but all of that reasoning was clouded by the sound of her gasp, and the look in her eyes as she had fallen to her knees. He might never be able to use a gun again without seeing that image of her in his mind.

Booth turned the taps, shutting off the water. He looked down at his reddened, irritated skin, and felt revolted. The shower hadn't helped him to feel clean at all. If anything, he felt more disgusted than ever, and glad that his tainted skin was no longer enveloped in the shirt soaked in her blood and her scent. He didn't deserve any part of the woman who loved him, especially the heart she had given to him –and only him – so carefully, only to have it crushed and thrown back at her so carelessly.

He took a deep breath, grabbing the white towel from the rack adjacent to the tub. He was never going to move past this. Nothing would ever be the same: his life, her life, their partnership, their relationship. The thought of even looking into her eyes, of touching her, of hearing her laugh – if she was able to ever laugh again – made him sick. All of those things which he had taken for granted were now out of his reach. His own actions had led him to lose Bones and any chance they may have had of a happy life together.

Booth wiped the last of his tears with the towel and dried himself. He removed the plastic knotted around his shoulder and threw it in the bin next to the toilet. He dressed himself without much thought, picked up his clothes and the bloodied shirt, shoved them into the bag, and opened the door.

The fist around his heart tightened painfully at the sight of the woman in the bed. For a second he felt as though his knees were going to buckle from the force of his emotions combined with affects of the long, overly hot shower, and the remnants of his concussion. He managed to steady himself however, and looked at the two other people sitting in the chairs next the bed. Cam had left, and the shift had changed.

Angela didn't look up at him. The only sign of her acknowledging his presence came from the rather aggressive stroke she made on her sketch pad upon his entrance into the room. The occupant of the chair next to her however, pierced him with his gaze. Max Keenan hadn't spoken a word to him since he had arrived at the hospital the evening before. He had spoken to Cam about Brennan's condition, but apart from that, the three of them had sat in tense silence after the others had left. Booth met his gaze for a few seconds before looking away. What was he supposed to say? "I'm sorry I almost got your daughter killed because I was too distracted to know better?" That would certainly help - to get him killed, tied to a pole, gutted, and burned. Nobody hurt Max Keenan's daughter without suffering the consequences.

Booth grabbed a chair and placed it on the other side of the bed, away from the other two, and facing the door so that he wouldn't have to look at anybody, especially Bones. He leaned into the chair – his back protesting painfully – and stared at the ceiling. He wanted so badly just to stroke the delicate, pale hand he knew was lying limply only inches away from him, but he felt too guilty, too unworthy, and had a feeling that Max Keenan would tell him to keep his filthy hands off his daughter. So he didn't dare disrupt the tense silence amidst the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the horrible sound of the intubation machine. Instead, he pleaded with God to help his Bones, and he pleaded with Bones to come back to them soon.

B&B

More than thirty six hours later Brennan had been cleared of the risk of developing an infection from the transfusion; however, she continued to rely on the intubation.

Russ had flown from North Carolina to be with his sister and their father. Hodgins and Booth had excused themselves to give the family some privacy. Hodgins went outside to call Angela with an update on Brennan's condition, while Booth walked to the payphone near the gift shop on the ground floor, and dialed Rebecca's number. His only consolation for being away from Bones was, of course, Parker. He had called Rebecca the first night and told her that he and Brennan had been hurt on the job, and that he wasn't in any state –physically or emotionally – to see his son the coming weekend. Rebecca had understood, She was very sincere in her concern for Bones, and had promised Booth that he could talk to Parker anytime he liked. He spoke briefly to Rebecca, and waited while she handed the phone to Parker.

"Dad!"

Booth smiled his first genuine smile in…he didn't know how long.

"Hey Bub. How's it going?"

"Ok Dad. Mom said that you and Bones got hurt. Are you OK Dad? Is Bones OK?"

Booth paused, thinking about the best way to explain the situation to his nine-year old son.

"I'm okay Bub, I promise. Bones...she uh...she's going to be ok too, but it might take her a bit longer to get better."

"Oh, OK. Well tell Bones I hope she gets better really quickly. Then we can get milkshakes together, and go bowling like we used to. That was fun."

Booth felt his throat tighten as he remembered that Bones and Parker had barely seen each other since they had returned from their time away. Prior to that, since Bones had agreed to be his village, they had spent numerous happy times together. In his haste to change his life Booth had somehow forgotten how much excluding Bones from his personal life would impact his son. Theirs had been, after all, the most stable relationship his son had seen him in with any woman. Bones had asked about Parker regularly. He had taken that more as politeness and fondness for his son, rather than the fact that she missed him, and missed the moments the three of them shared together. He had known of Parker and Brennan's correspondence while she was in Maluku, but he had avoided reading too much into it, since he had been angry at her lack of communication with him.

"Are you there Dad?"

"Yeah Bub, I'll tell her you're thinking of her."

"And that we can get milkshakes when she gets better?"

"That too", Booth said quietly, He wasn't going to tell his son that there was a possibility that Bones might never get better; not when he himself refused to believe it.

"Cool. I can't wait to show her my ant farm, and thank her for the Science Kit. It's awesome!"

"You can tell her all about it soon Bub."

"I have to go wash up for dinner now Dad. I love you. I hope you feel better. Give Bones a hug from me. Mom says hugs make everyone feel better. Bye Dad."

"Bye Bub. I love you, and I'll be seeing you really soon okay?"

"OK Dad. Bye."

"Bye Bub."

Booth replaced the receiver in the phone box. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he walked aimlessly out the sliding doors and into the chilly D.C. air. It was Friday night, and the people he passed were talking happily of their weekend plans, or making their way from work to Friday night drinks. The painful conversation with his son played over in his mind as he walked. After returning to D.C. he had completely cut Bones off from their village; tried to burn all bridges. He realised now that he had been concentrating so hard on Brennan's replacement, that he had been blind to how it was affecting the two most important people in his world.

Booth stopped abruptly and realised he had come to the end of the block. He turned to walk back to the hospital, but not before he noticed the small florist on the corner. He went inside the tiny shop and looked around at the numerous flowers. There were bouquets, big and small, baskets, boxes, and pots, all of them filled with single or mixed arrangements. Booth's eyes scanned for the one and only flower that he wanted.

"Can I help you my dear?"

A short, plump woman with a kind face, and bright green eyes emerged from behind the counter, and came to stand next to him.

"I uh...I'm looking for daffodils..."

The woman's face brightened, and she disappeared behind a row of pots. Booth followed, and found himself standing before a bucket of beautiful long stemmed daffodils.

"How many would you like dear?" the woman asked kindly.

"Just...just...the one." He picked out the biggest, most vibrant daffodil of the bunch and touched its petals tenderly. Even though it felt silly, Booth felt that perhaps, by putting the daffodil in Brennan's room, next to her bed, it would provide as a light in her darkness, and bring her back to him, to her family. He also wanted to somehow tell her that he was here, waiting for her.

"Oh." The woman considered him with her piercing green eyes. "You know, giving a daffodil can mean many things. It can mean rebirth, new beginnings, unrequited love, chivalry, and eternal life. Giving a daffodil also says to someone, 'You're the only one.' I'm thinking that you're planning on giving this daffodil to the woman you love, right?"

Booth's eyes darkened and he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Daffodils are her favourite flower. She's...not doing so well."

The woman touched his arm. "I'm sorry to hear that son. I'm sure she will pull through, especially with you by her side. I'm sure she knows how much you love her."

She had no idea how much her words had cut through him. He forced a smile and grabbed his wallet from his back pocket to pay for the flower. He was so on edge that a few kind words from a stranger had him threatening to fall apart right there in front of her.

"Thanks, and keep the change." He smiled at her, as sincerely as he could, and hurried out of the store into the cold evening.

B&B

He reached her room and found Russ and Max talking quietly at her bedside. Without hesitating, he walked over to the table where several flower arrangements had been placed, and slipped the daffodil behind a bouquet of purple and blue flowers he did not know the name of. His intention wasn't to hide the daffodil, it was only to keep what was between them, theirs. He didn't look at the two other men in the room as he resumed his seat on the other side of her bed.

At around 11:00pm, Booth was awoken by someone gently shaking his shoulder. He looked blearily up at Russ.

"Dad's going to get coffee, and I just need to call Amy back. Emma's had a bad dream and won't go back to sleep until I talk to her. Can you keep an eye on things? I think Lance is too far gone." He gestured to Sweets sleeping awkwardly in the chair with his mouth hanging open.

"Yeah okay," Booth replied, suddenly wide awake and feeling guilty for having dozed off.

He gazed at Bones, and thought again about just picking up her hand, and warming it tenderly with his own. Again he decided against it.

He sat staring at her hand for several seconds, when it happened. The beeping of the heart monitor became irregular for about three seconds, and then went back to normal. Booth's stomach was in knots, as he held his breath. Thirty seconds later, it happened again, then fifteen seconds later. Then he saw it, and forgot to breathe: her limp, delicate hand was moving on the blankets, so slowly and gently, that he could have almost missed it. His eyes flew to her face, and he almost cried from happiness, as he saw her eyelids move. Forgetting his prior hesitation, he carefully picked up her hand and whispered her name. Her hand moved in his, and he stroked it gently and soothingly with his thumb. Booth leaned towards her face, ignoring the mask, and focused on her eyes. "Come on Bones. You're almost there."

Her eyelids fluttered and slowly, almost gingerly, she opened her eyes a little, and peered through her long dark eyelashes. Her gaze found his. Booth's breathing had become uneven as he stared. He felt his heart clench as she allowed her eyes to open fully and focus on his face. He let out a ragged breath as he stood and reached over her carefully to press the call button, taking his eyes off her face for a mere few seconds. When he focused on her again, she was looking at him intently, and he saw recognition, familiarity, and something else in her eyes. His own eyes filled with tears as he recognised what he had failed to recognise so many times before, but could not deny any longer. She continued to stare at him for a few more moments, until she started to blink sleepily. A few seconds later, she had fallen asleep, but he knew in his gut that she really was awake, and out of immediate danger. He placed a tiny kiss on her knuckles and laid her hand tenderly back onto the blankets. His own body was slightly trembling at what had happened.

The nurse rushed in, took one look at the heart monitor, and the intubation, and ran back out to summon the doctor. When the night doctor arrived, Booth was ordered to wake Sweets and wait outside. He shook the younger man roughly awake and practically dragged him from the room. He wasn't going to take any risks by distracting the medical staff or lose time fighting with them in case it did anything to hamper the huge strides Bones had made.

Max and Russ joined them outside the room a few minutes later, demanding to know what was happening, as did a very bewildered and slightly guilty looking Sweets. Booth looked directly at Max.

"She woke up, for about two minutes, and fell asleep after that. Her heart rate continued to be irregular at intervals."

"What did the doctor say?" Max asked.

"She just ordered me out. But I overheard her telling the nurse that Bones was trying to breathe on her own."

Relief washed over Max, and the two other men standing with them in the hallway.

As they waited outside the room for the doctor and nurse to finish, Booth's stomach was in knots from what he had witnessed earlier. He tried to convince himself that she had no idea what was going on, and that she had simply recognised him. The memories would hit her once she was fully awake and able to comprehend her condition better.

Yet, as they waited, no matter how many excuses he made, he couldn't shake what he felt in his heart. What he seen in her eyes, what he now recognised was undeniable, unmistakable love. Love he did not deserve to be the recipient of. Even after everything that had happened between them, she had been glad that he was there; she wanted him there. Then why did he feel like he'd been kicked in the gut? Maybe because he would have preferred that she hate him; push him away, look at him with nothing but loathing, because that is what he deserved. She had no right to need, or trust in such a tainted man. He would never be good enough for her; he never was.

The door to her room opened, interrupting his thoughts. Every man in the hallway stood a little straighter as they waited for the doctor to speak.

"Dr Brennan is now breathing on her own. We've removed the intubation, but her condition is still critical, so we'll continue to monitor her breathing pattern and her heart rate very closely."

"Is she awake?" Max asked, his fists clenched at his sides; the coffee he had brought was sitting on the floor, long forgotten.

The doctor smiled kindly. "She's awake, but she's very drowsy. She won't be very responsive for a few hours at least. Don't panic if she falls asleep. It's very important that she regain her strength now, so that she can continue with the rest of her recovery at a steady pace."

Russ grabbed the doctor's hands briefly and whispered "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She offered a sympathetic smile and walked away quietly.

The four of them looked at each other, before Max stepped forward and opened the door. He and Russ walked in and stationed themselves either side of the bed. Russ lowered himself into a chair and gently cradled Brennan's hand in both of his, while Max leaned over and ran his hand gently along her forehead, before dropping a kiss above her brow. Booth and Sweets watched from the doorway as Brennan blinked at them sleepily. Booth didn't have the will power to go back into the room. He couldn't risk looking into her eyes and seeing everything he had refused to see for so long. He wouldn't be able to handle it; he would fall apart, right there in front of her father, her brother, his shrink, and Bones. He gazed longingly at her face for a few more seconds, before pushing off the door frame, and turning on his heel.

"Booth?" Sweets followed him down the hallway towards the elevator. Booth didn't respond; he kept walking, his shoulders hunched, and his feet dragging. He jabbed the down button for the elevator, refusing to look at Sweets. The last thing he needed was for the kid to see his turmoil rising to the surface, and on the verge of boiling over.

"Booth, aren't you going to go in?"

"No. She's awake; she's going to be ok. She has Max and Russ."

"She'd want you there too."

"No. She doesn't need me."

Sweet's eyes widened. He didn't know whether to feel sorry for the man before him, or to shake him for being so obtuse. "Of course she needs you. You were the first-"

"No. Enough." Booth cut him off just as the elevator doors opened. Booth walked in and jabbed the button for the lobby. "Call everyone else and tell them she's awake." He barked with his back still to Sweets. The elevator doors slid shut, before Sweets could answer.

Once downstairs, Booth called Jared from a payphone and briefly explained what had happened before asking him if it would be okay with Padme if he stayed with them to clear his head, and decide what he was going to do next. Jared, who had sounded half asleep, became very alert at the news, and immediately offered to come and get his brother from the hospital, but Booth declined, told him he'd get a cab and see him in about twenty minutes.

He got into the first cab, and gave the driver Jared's address. He had declined the offer from Hodgins to stay at the estate, even when offered Zack's old place. He knew that the offer was sincere, but that sort of kindness seemed too much. He also knew accepting wouldn't be a good idea, especially since Angela refused to look at him. Another plus to staying with Jared would be that he would feel less scrutinised; the Squints knew him too well, and right now, he didn't need to be under constant observation.

Booth sighed and rubbed his temples. He would take a shower, catch a few hours sleep, and then go into work. The FBI techs were still holding his phone to test for listening devices, and the SUV had been taken in as well. His apartment was still a crime scene. He would need to find a new place. There wasn't a chance in hell he would be able to go back there and call it his home. He did, however, need to pack his things and arrange for them to be moved once he found somewhere to live.

Booth looked out the window. The thought of going back to that place had his stomach in knots. He would ask Jared to go with him; there was no way he would be able to do it alone.

* * *

**Thank you very much for reading! I know there doesn't seem to be a resolution in sight. However, to be completely honest, with everything that has happened between B&B (in the show, and this story) I prefer that things aren't rushed, because there is SO much for them to work through. **

**As always, I love to read reviews!**


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